


Stark With A Drink, End With A Kiss

by NuwandaSnicket



Series: Stark With A Drink, End With A Kiss [1]
Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Anal Sex, Humor, M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-23 13:08:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuwandaSnicket/pseuds/NuwandaSnicket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint shows up at Tony's house with pizza and a movie, and secret plans for the evening ahead. Little does he know that he's out to get far more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Text That Began It All

**Author's Note:**

> Every subsequent chapter will be in story format. Originally this chapter was a separate fic of it's own called "The Text That Began It All", but I decided to just put it as part of this story. So enjoy.

**Stark1:** I’m bored, Clint. Come entertain me.

 **Hawkeye58:** What….now? Unlike some people, I don’t own rocket boots.

 **Stark1:** Pfft, details. And they’re not BOOTS; it’s a SUIT. Get it right.

 **Hawkeye58:** Okay, granted. But it wouldn’t surprise me if you DID have rocket boots.

 **Stark1:** ………..point taken.

 **Hawkeye58:** …….DO you?

 **Stark1:** ……..my lab secrets are my lab secrets. Maybe if you CAME OVER I would share some.

 **Hawkeye58:** Keeping secrets? I’m hurt.

 **Stark1:** Yea, well, suck it up. And come see me.

 **Hawkeye58:** You continue to wound me. Sides, at this hour, I’m thinking your security systems would not appreciate the visit.

 **Stark1:** You’re fucking military and my snarky sarcasm wounds you? That’s a little sad, dude. Maybe you need more training….

 **Hawkeye58:** Psh. I said I was wounded, not down.

 **Stark1:** …..hmm. I’m afraid you miss my meaning. Guess I’ll have to try harder next time.

 **Hawkeye58:** What…get more training with your snarky comments? I don’t know if you’d keep up with yourself.

 **Stark1:** First of all, I have a never-ending supply of snarky comments. Secondly, I was referring to something else. But you’re not coming to see me, so I guess it doesn’t matter.

 **Hawkeye58:** Well, like I said. Your security makes things complicated. As does timing.

 **Stark1:** Mm….got a problem with timing, do you? That’s unfortunate. Y’know, I could help you with that.

 **Hawkeye58:** That is NOT what I meant. My timing is perfectly fine.

 **Stark1:** Oh, really? Maybe you should prove it.

 **Hawkeye58:** Maybe I will! …..wait.

 **Stark1:** Ha! Gotcha!

 **Hawkeye58:** What? No! …..dammit. You’re an ass.

 **Stark1:** Well, yea, we knew that!

 **Hawkeye58:** Well, I’m just reiterating the point.

 **Stark1:** Gee, cuz THAT needs to be done.

 **Hawkeye58:** I feel sometimes it does. I think you may forget.

 **Stark1:** ……nah, I’m pretty sure that I think about myself often enough to not forget about any facet of my personality.

 **Hawkeye58:** This is true. I should have considered that.

 **Stark1:** Yep. Now if you’re not here sometime before noon tomorrow, I’ll know you don’t love me even a tenth as much as I love myself.

 **Hawkeye58:** It’s really hard for anyone to love you as much as you love yourself. I feel you’re setting a ridiculous standard.

 **Stark1:** ……..wow. Even a tenth is too much to ask? You’re hard, man.

 **Hawkeye58:** Like you said. Military. Plus sniper. We’re hard people. Buuuuuut seeing as I guess I’m supposed be be raising my game while hanging out with super people, I guess I might be inclined to try.

 **Stark1:** Oh? Well, I’d enjoy that “inclination”. But don’t strain yourself. Wouldn’t want to hurt yourself, would we?

 **Hawkeye58:** Why Stark, is that a challenge?

 **Stark1:** You know it.

 **Hawkeye58:** Well, you know I can’t turn down a challenge.

 **Stark1:** Good. Then….damn. Pepper’s yelling at me to stop flirting and go to bed.

 **Hawkeye58:** Ahaha. Well if Pepper insists. I give her credit for putting up with you.

 **Stark1:** Yea, don’t we all. I’m holding you to this challenge you’ve accepted, though.

 **Hawkeye58:** Indeed. Hash out the finer points tomorrow. Tasha’s probably gonna put a sleeper hold on me in a few minutes anyway if I don’t drag my ass to bed myself.

 **Stark1:** ………Tasha? You’re sleeping with Tasha?

 **Hawkeye58:** Why, Stark? You jealous? Didn’t think it was in your nature.

 **Stark1:** Did I say I was jealous? I don’t think I said I was jealous.  
…………..why does Tasha get a nickname and I’m still just ‘Stark’?

 **Hawkeye58:** Goodnight, Stark.

 

 ************the next day**************

 

 

 **Stark1:** So, why am I still ‘Stark’?

 **Hawkeye58::** Because I haven’t thought up anything cute that still conveys ‘annoying asshat’.

 **Stark1:** “Annoying asshat”? ………….I guess I can work with that. As long as it’s cute.

 **Hawkeye58:** Adorable. But too damn long.

 **Stark1:** I meant as long as you find a cute alternative, that still captures the wonderful essence of that name. You know….since you seem to like it so much.

 **Hawkeye58:** Annoying asshat? Well, yea. It’s fun to say. Though you gotta wonder what went into coining that. What the hell is an asshat? Besides you, I mean.

 **Stark1:** I don’t know. Haberdashery was never my area of expertise. But if you were interested, I’m sure I could figure something out. I AM a genius.

 **Hawkeye58:** Not really. Interested, that is. Besides, if Fury found out you were using your ‘genius’ to look up the history behind strange insults….and then found out it was because of me….he’ll probably station me in Antarctica or somewhere equally unpleasant and boring.

 **Stark1:** I’ve used my genius to look up stranger things than asshats. And thank you, but my genius comes without quotation marks. It’s a fact, not a question.

 **Hawkeye58:** I know you have. But that was all on you. They’ll tell me you waste your time enough without me giving you ideas.

 **Stark1:** And you assume I’d tell them? I’m wounded.

 **Hawkeye58:** Tony. You can’t keep your mouth shut. It’s like…..not programmed into your system. Unless someone’s going to die. And I don’t think Fury would kill me. Well, I’d like to think that.

 **Stark1:** ………..I am truly wounded.

 **Hawkeye58:** You know it’s true. You like to share…..about everyone. Especially if you think the aftermath will be funny.

 **Stark1:** My, for someone with an attitude problem of his own, you’re awfully judgmental.

 **Hawkeye58:** Not judging. In fact, the reason why I WOULD get sent to Antarctica or something rather than just get the usual ass chewing would likely be because of my ‘attitude problem’. They’d just be looking for an excuse.

 **Stark1:** ………..actually, I can’t help but notice that you’re not at my house. I’m going to assume I won our challenge and you’ve slunk back to your nest in defeat.

 **Hawkeye58:** Hey. You said before noon. I’ve still got like….an hour and a half to make that happen….and I don’t “slink”.

 **Stark1:** Cut me some slack, I couldn’t think of a bird metaphor for skulking in shame.

 **Hawkeye58:** Birds can slink if they want to. I’m just saying I don’t. Because I haven’t lost.

 **Stark1:** Hmm. I think you may have. But who knows. The stuff I’ve had in my lab for oh…ever…may be more interesting than whatever you come up with.

 **Hawkeye58:** Come up with to what? Do? I don’t know. I had some ideas.

 **Stark1:** Yea? Well if you DO manage to find yourself up to the challenge, we’ll see how they hold up.

 **Hawkeye58:** I was thinking dinner and a show. And by dinner I mean takeout pizza. And by show I mean I’ll pick up a rental.

 **Stark1:** Gee, Clint, you really know how to sweep a guy off his feet.

 **Hawkeye58:** You’re not the only one who has charm.

 **Stark1:** Fair enough. So, does that mean I’m going to be romanced today?

 **Hawkeye58:** We’ll see. Don’t want to lay all the cards on the table just yet.

 **Stark1:** That’s probably a good plan…..I’m fairly awesome at cards. 

**Hawkeye58:** Okay, Tony, I’ll see you at noon.

 **Stark1:** Better hurry up, you’ve only got about half an hour. You live about forty five minutes away, don’t you?

 **Hawkeye58:** I’ll be there.

 **Stark1:** You sure?

 **Hawkeye58:** Goodbye, Tony.

 **Stark1:** Cuz you’re running late.

 **Hawkeye58:** I’m ignoring you now. 

 

**~tbc~**


	2. Suit Shopping

“You sure I can’t drive?”

Clint could feel Tony’s breath against his cheek, hot and sweet with the scent of the booze he’d been drinking. The man’s weight was heavy draped against him. “Yeah, I’m sure. Think you’ve had just a few too many.”

“Oh, come on. I always drive home after these things. Well, almost always. Happy doesn’t care if I drive myself.”

“Well, I personally don’t want to get in a crash with your drunk ass.”

“What about my drunk face?”

“ _God_ , you’re such an ass.”

“No, we’re talking about my face.”

“Tony, shut up and get in the car.” He pulled the door open and Tony gave him one of those dazzling smiles. 

“Such a gentleman.” For once that evening, Clint was completely unaware of all the eyes on him, everyone wondering who was this man that Tony Stark had brought to one of the biggest gala events of the year. And now, the intensity of those gazes was growing, for the two were leaving together, and Tony seemed to be trusting this mystery man to drive his precious car. No one touched his car. _Ever_.

With Tony safely tucked into the passenger seat, Clint slid into the driver’s side. Tony was watching him. Clint pointed at him. “Seatbelt.”

“Why?”

“Put it on.”

“It’s my car, I shouldn’t have to wear one if I don’t want to.”

“Put it on or I’ll do it for you.”

“Well, why would you expect me to put it on myself when you offer such fun alternatives?”

Clint simply stared at Tony, eyes narrowed, giving him the look he usually reserved for particularly aggressive enemies. Tony smiled back, that insufferably cocky smile that seemed unflappable. But he put his seatbelt on. 

Clint fastened his own belt, starting the ignition. 

“Satisfied, mom?”

“Tony, I swear to God…”

“Okay, okay, fine, I’ll behave. I’ll behave.” Clint fixed that same steely gaze on him again, but Tony merely smiled, hands in the air. “I’ll behave.”

Clint couldn’t look at that smile any more. He thought he was pretty well past surprises by now, but Tony’s behavior that evening had surprised him indeed. He didn’t know how they had come to this from that afternoon, when he’d showed up on Tony’s front steps with a pizza and a rental movie from the Redbox kiosk down the road.

 

**~*~**

 

Tony pulled the door open before Clint could knock a second time, and looked at his watch. “Eleven-fifty-eight. You made it here with two minutes to spare. Nicely done.”

“Told you I’d do it.” He held up the pizza box. “With dinner and a movie, as promised.”

“I see that.” Tony pushed the door open wider. “Entrez la maison de Stark, s’il vous plait.”

Clint just shook his head at that, and carefully maneuvered the pizza box through the door so as not to bump Tony with it. He was vaguely aware of the ‘snick’ of the door shutting behind him, but he was distracted by the house itself. _So this is where Tony Stark lives_.

“Can I take that for you?” 

The question stirred him from his thoughts. “Oh, yeah. Thanks.” He handed the pizza to Tony and shrugged out of his jacket. 

“Here.” Tony reached out his hand to take the jacket. Clint was a little surprised by that.

“I can do it..”

“Give me the damn jacket.” Clint complied, and Tony headed off, pizza in one hand, jacket in the other.

 

“Where are the robots to do all this for you?” He had to call the jibe out; Tony had vanished down the hall. But he returned, jacket gone.

“Actually, the robots all stay in the lab…that’s really where I need the help. Believe it or not, I can do most of the mundane stuff myself. Pepper helps me with anything else.”

Clint opened his mouth to say something, then stopped…and stared. Tony was dead serious. “….I…….you’re joking….right?”

“Nope.”

“…….how many do you have?”

“…..uh…….” Tony screwed up his face, thinking. 

Clint shook his head. “Nevermind.” _Geez. This guy._ “So…..you wanna eat?”

Tony did a strange little half nod, half shrug of the shoulder. “Sounds good.” He picked the pizza back up off the counter. “Here…..if you want to take this in the living room…….that way…..” he pointed down one hallway, “…I’ll just grab some napkins and stuff. You want anything on it? Cheese? Red pepper?”

“Oh, red pepper, thanks.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in a minute.”

There were several rooms branching off that one hallway, but it wasn’t hard for Clint to figure out which was the living room. The television took up half the wall, and there were enough couches to fit at least ten people. He gave a low whistle, shaking his head, and set the pizza down on the coffee table. If this thing had surround sound (and he would bet good money that it did), then they were in for an awesome fucking time.

“Good?” Somehow Tony had come in without him noticing, and set down plates and paper towels, and not just pepper and cheese, but an assortment of other odd toppings. Before Clint could really get a good look, though, Tony was speaking again. “Now, on to the important stuff…….drinks.” He was striding across the room to the bar that Clint hadn’t even noticed. He hadn’t had time, he was too busy taking in the television.

“Oh. Rum and coke?”

“Perfect.”

He had to smile at that. “Oh? That’s a good drink choice?”

“Oh yea. You passed.”

Clint laughed. “So someone can fail at choosing a drink?”

“Well, yea. Some drinks are really stupid. You could’ve chosen a stupid drink and then I would’ve worried about you. Or a pansy-ass drink and I would’ve been questioning your masculinity. But no, you went with the rum and coke.” Tony gave a conspiratorial sort of wink. “Nice going, man.”

Clint couldn’t help but roll his eyes. _This guy is ridiculous._ And yet he found he was enjoying himself more than he had in a long time. Something about Tony just put you at ease. He could be the most infuriating person in the world, but he was more amusing than anyone Clint knew. He took the glass from Tony’s outstretched hand, and felt a finger brush lightly against his own. He glanced up, and found Tony’s gaze locked on him, so intense. _Was that intentional?_ It was actually him who looked away first. 

“So…..you ready?”

“I’m ready.” Tony looked at the TV, then back at Clint. “…where’s the movie?”

“Oh! Sorry.” He found it and held it out. “Here.”

Tony accepted it and took a look for the first time. “…..’The Rock’.” He looked up at Clint, and that so familiar smile spread across his lips. “…nice.”

“You’ve seen it?”

“Oh yea. Classic!”

“Good.”

The DVD player slid shut and the TV roared to life, the sound almost deafening. “Whoops, sorry.” Tony immediately turned the sound down several bars. “Sometimes I turn the surround sound up really high.”

Clint uncovered his ears, turning to look at Tony with arched brows. “…..yeah, no shit.”

Tony laughed. “Hey, with certain movies, it’s pretty cool.”

“I’m guessing this movie will be one of them.”

“Yea.” Tony flopped back in the cushions, and it was then Clint noticed for the first time the drink Tony had made himself. It was a strange blend of red and gold, some darker hues to it. It almost reminded him of the color of Tasha’s hair, but deeper, more purple to it. “….what is that?”

“Hmm?” Tony looked at him, and saw where his gaze was. “Oh, this?” He looked at his glass. “El Diablo. Basically tequila, blackberry and pomegranate juice, some other stuff.” He paused, looking at Clint. “….never tried it?” Clint shook his head. Tony held out the glass. “…you want to?”

“…you sure?” A nod, and Clint accepted the glass. “……damn, that’s good!”

Tony grinned. “I always thought so.” 

Clint returned the glass. He could still taste the sweet tang. “….damn.” He watched as Tony took a sip. “……know any more drinks like that?”

“Oh, dozens. Besides science, drinking is one of my major skill points.” That gaze returned to Clint, and there was a hint of something there, something not altogether safe, something dark and teasing. “….amongst other things.”

Clint had no idea what exactly Tony was saying, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. _He’s teasing me_. “Think we could make some?”

“Oh yea. We’ll keep the drinks flowing all through the movie. Here.” He pulled something from his pocket…..a phone, Clint knew, but it was like no phone he’d ever seen before….and opening a file, tossed it to the table. “You can look up any drink in there, search by base alcohol. Like, this,” holding up his glass, “it’s tequila-based. So you’d search under tequila. You just do that in there, and it’s a veritable Garden of Eden of alcohol.”

Clint had to laugh at that, picking up the phone and scrolling for a minute. He had to admit, it was impressive. Then, he realized: “Oh! The pizza!”

“Oh, yes…we seem to have gotten sidetracked.” Tony leaned in over the pizza. “So, what do we have, here?”

“Well, I didn’t know what you liked, so…” Clint opened the box. “….I got a slice of everything.” 

The pizza was cut into twelve slices, each a different topping. Tony stared at it, eyes huge. After a moment, he leaned over and hugged Clint. “Marry me.”

Clint snorted, handing over a slice. “Gotta put a ring on it, first.”

“A ring? No problem. Let me know what size ring you wear and what kind you want, and it’s done.”

That was definitely not the first flirtatious comment Tony had made that afternoon, nor indeed since they’d met. There had been some suggestive texts the night before, as well. Not that Clint was uncomfortable, but it was making him wonder. Did Tony really enjoy teasing him that much? He glanced over.

Tony seemed oblivious to his friend’s thoughts; he was currently pondering his slice of pizza. “…..what is this?”

“It’s pineapple and chili pepper.”

“That sounds really good.”

“It is.”

Tony was quiet for a moment, seeming to be mulling that over. “…….think I’ll put some pickles on it.”

Clint had been in the middle of taking a bite of a slice of pepperoni and mushroom, and he promptly choked on it. _“What?!”_

Tony looked at him as though he were deaf, as though what he’d just said was the most normal thing in the world. “Pickles. On the pizza.”

“………..that is _disgusting_.”

“No, it’s actually really good.”

“You haven’t even tried it yet!”

Tony thought about that for a minute. “No, but I’ve had pickles on other kinds of pizza before, and it’s good.” He offered the slice. “You wanna try?”

“No!”

“Wuss.”

“I am not.”

“Then try it!”

“Tony, get that out of my face.”

“I will if you try it.” He was waving the pizza so close to Clint’s face that it was practically up his nose.

“Dammit, Tony…..fine! Give me the damn pizza!” He snatched it from Tony’s hand, grimacing, and took a bite. Immediately he pushed it back Tony’s way. “I was right. That’s disgusting.”

“Really?” Tony looked at the pizza, face disappointed. “Well, do you want part of it? I haven’t put pickles on all of it yet. And you said you like this kind.”

For some reason, that was incredibly sweet. Tony looked like a little kid making a peace offering. “….sure.”

Carefully, Tony cut the slice in half, handing over the piece that was as yet untouched by pickles. Clint smiled. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Tony smiled back. “Thanks for trying it.” A pause, and that smile took on a bit of it’s usual obnoxious smirk. “……wuss.”

This time, Clint didn’t hesitate. He punched Tony in the shoulder….hard.

“Ow!”

“You deserved it.”

“I did not!”

“Shut up, we’re missing the movie.”

Tony managed to be quiet for all of two minutes…..about the length of time it took him to finish spreading the pickles on his slice of pizza, take a bite, and chew it. “……you’re right, this does taste kind of weird.”

“Are you going to talk through the whole movie?”

“….probably, yea.”

“I should’ve known that, huh.”

“Yup.” Tony took another sip of his drink…..if it could be called a sip. He drained half his glass. “Damn, look at that guy’s face melt.”

“I totally saw that happen to someone.”

“Really?”

“Pretty much.”

“Cool. I mean, in a really gross, creepy way.”

Clint shook his head. “I swear to God, you are one of the weirdest people I know.”

“Yea, I get that a lot.”

“I’m not surprised.

Tony’s drink didn’t last much longer. He gave Clint a punch to the shoulder, albeit a much softer one than Clint had given him. “Oi.”

“What.”

Tony raised his empty glass and gave it a little wiggle, the ice clinking. “C’mon…keep up.”

“…..is that a challenge?”

Tony smirked at that. Both of them knew Clint could never resist a challenge. “It is now.”

His head tipped back, and Clint drained his glass in one gulp. Tony’s eyebrows went up; he smiled appreciatively. “Nicely done.”

“Thanks.” Clint held out his empty glass. Tony accepted it, rising and heading towards the bar.

“What else do you want?”

“What else do you got?”

Tony paused, glancing back at Clint. “….is _that_ a challenge?”

It was Clint’s turn to smirk. “It is now.”

Tony chuckled. “Stealing my lines now, huh.” He emptied the ice from both glasses, rinsing them out. “Well, fear not. I think I can come up with something.”

The movie was still going, but it was hard not to watch Tony. He hadn’t lied…he had a way with alcohol. He even looked graceful making it. Clint felt stupid even thinking that, but it was true. He didn‘t hesitate, didn‘t stop to think about what mixers he needed. It was as if his hands knew every inch of the bar. And maybe they did. Clint turned back to the TV.

It was no time at all before Tony joined him on the couch. “Here.” 

Clint accepted the drink, sipping. It was equally as delicious as the first. Tony was watching him carefully. _Like a hawk_ , he thought with some amusement. 

“Well?” Tony demanded.

“It’s great.” He took another sip. “What is it?”

“Oh, some melon and raspberry liquor, some cranberry juice.”

“I meant what’s it called.” 

“Ohhh, that.” Tony watched Clint drinking. “…….Panty Hamster.”

Clint almost chocked. “…….’Panty Hamster’.”

“Yea.”

“….you gave me a drink called ‘Panty Hamster’.”

“Yes, I did.”

“………….you suck.”

Tony burst out laughing. “Hey, you said you like it!”

“I do. I mean, it’s good, but…….really? _‘Panty Hamster’?”_

“Yup. What….you don’t like the name?”

“…..you do?”

“It’s unique.”

“I’ll give it that.” He looked at the drink in Tony’s hand. “What do you have?”

Tony leaned back in the cushions, putting his feet up on the table. “…Sex on the Beach.” That look was back in his eyes, the usual brazen smile on his face. 

Clint shook his head. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

“Hey, I can’t help it if all the good drinks have sexy names!”

“Yeah, because their names have no part in why you choose them.”

“Such accusations.” They settled in to watch the movie. Amazingly, Tony didn't talk through every scene, though the stream of chatter _was_ more than Clint was used to. "Hey." Tony gestured to the screen with his glass. “You ever do shit like that?”

Clint looked at the television, where Sean Connery was busy maneuvering a labyrinth of flame and blades. “……that’s classified.” He said the line almost at the exact same moment as Nicholas Cage did, and Tony nearly hooted with laughter.

“You ass.”

Clint was grinning. He’d never seen Tony like this….the man was always joking around, but never this much so, completely at ease, totally goofy, almost like a kid.

“Takes one to know one.”

“Mm, so they say.” Tony shifted, turning sideways so his head was resting on the arm of the couch, and plopped his feet in Clint’s lap. The blonde turned to look at Tony.

“…..excuse me?”

“Hmm?” Tony looked to Clint. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“What’s with the feet in my lap?”

“Oh, that? I just felt like stretching out.” He gave a little wriggle as if to prove the point, and took another sip of his drink…..swig, Clint corrected mentally. _Damn_ , the man could drink.

“You’ve got like, six other couches.”

“Yea, but I like this one.”

“Well, I’m on this one.”

“So? We can share, I have no problem with closeness.”

“So I noticed.”

“Why….you getting jumpy? Don’t like being touched?” His toes found Clint’s waist and poked, and Clint jumped.

“Hey!” What was left of his drink sloshed over the side, soaking his pants. “That fucking tickles!”

“Oh?” Tony grinned. “Then I’ll do it again.” But before he could, Clint had tossed his glass aside and had Tony pinned face-down on the couch in a head lock.

“…..oof.” The noise was muffled by the pillows. “Guess that’ll teach me to tickle badass SHIELD agents, huh?”

Clint laughed. “Yeah, right. Like you ever learn a lesson.”

“True.” He shifted beneath Clint, as much as he could. “….so, how does this work? Do I tap out, cry uncle, what.”

“Mm….I don’t know. If I let you go, you’ll probably just go right back to what you were doing.”

“Most likely.”

Clint sat quietly contemplating. Amazingly, Tony was still for once, awaiting an answer. His body was warm beneath Clint’s. It felt strangely nice.

….he could almost _feel_ Tony’s tension. It was true, the man was sitting still and quiet for once, but he wanted to move, to say something, Clint could feel it. It was endlessly amusing. He wondered how long it would take until Tony broke, and if he should just prolong the torture and wait until it happened.

Turns out he didn’t have long to wait.

“…so are you going to do anything, or what?”

He laughed. “Well, I was waiting to see how long you could actually keep your mouth shut. It was longer than I thought.”

“Impressed?”

“Only a little. It was still only about two minutes long.”

“Hey, for me that’s fucking impressive. Like, Guinness Book of World Record’s impressive.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me in the least.” 

“You haven’t moved at all. Getting comfy up there?” Tony _was_ strangely comfortable, and warm, but Clint felt no need to tell him that. “Am I comfy? Should I start renting myself out as a bed?”

Clint snorted. “From the stories I’ve heard, you already sort of do.”

“Ouch, man. That was harsh.”

“Sorry.”

“Yea, I bet you are. Besides, you’re one to talk.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.”

“You’ve got your own reputation, you know.”

“I know, I know, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Really? Cuz you know, seems like maybe you forgot, wanting to point fingers and all…”

And between trying to think of a way to shut Tony up and simultaneously still thinking of how damn warm he was, inspiration struck. Clint fumbled blindly for the glass he had discarded and, fishing out a handful of ice cubes, shoved them down Tony’s shirt.

Immediately, Tony let out a yelp that was practically ear splitting, wriggling beneath Clint like a mad puppy. “What the fuck was that?!” 

“Ice. You like it?” Clint was laughing.

"Do I _look_ like I like it?!” But despite Tony’s struggles, he couldn’t escape the hold Clint had on him.

“Well, you felt a little warm…..”

“Oh, that’s cuz you make me so hot.”

“You are _such_ an ass…”

But Tony managed to get his own glass in hand and reached back, dumping the ice on Clint’s head. 

“Hey!” Clint immediately released Tony, rearing back at the cold, laughing as he tried to brush it out of his hair to no avail. Tony immediately took advantage of catching Clint off his guard, tackling the man onto his back on the couch. 

“See? How do YOU like it?” He found some of the fallen ice and shoved it down Clint’s shirt. “Feel good?”

Clint was laughing up a storm, trying to shove Tony off, but the man was insistent, hair sticking up in all directions, that mad grin on his face. 

“….what on _earth_ is going on in here?”

Tony’s head whipped about, looking at the doorway. Clint had more difficulty seeing, pinned down as he was. He struggled to sit up, but Tony probably weighed almost as much as him, and the man wasn’t making any motion to let him up. Still, he managed to shift just enough to see the doorway, where Pepper stood, staring at them. She had obviously been reacting only to the noise, but a strange look passed over her face when she saw that it was Clint there with Tony. She looked extremely surprised, but there was something else there as well. Something he didn’t quite understand. And something a little bit pleased.

“Hello, Clint.” 

“Miss Potts.”

She turned her attention back to Tony. “……what are you doing.”

“It’s a battle for couch domination.”

Pepper seemed to take the comment in stride; Clint would wage that she had to put up with much stranger things in her day to day life with Tony. She nodded. “Okay. You _do_ remember that you have an event tonight, don’t you? The Abbington Benefit Gala?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Um, yea, I’m gonna ditch that?”

“Tony, you confirmed your attendance a month ago. You can’t ditch it.”

“Yea, well, I am. I’m hanging out with Clint.”

“Tony…”

“We’re _bonding_. And doing MAN STUFF.”

Pepper glanced at the two of them, Tony straddling Clint’s lap on the couch. “….oh, is _that_ what this is.”

Clint couldn’t help flushing at that. The words “man stuff” combined with Tony in his lap just seemed incredibly inappropriate. 

“Yup. Bonding time. So you see, the gala’s going to have to benefit itself. I sent them a check already.”

Pepper opened her mouth to object, but Clint cut in.

“Actually, Tony…..I was planning on taking you.”

Tony stared at him. “……you…..you were going to take me to the gala?” He looked so stunned. Clint felt a little silly. He nodded.

“Yeah. I know that that’s usually your…..thing….that you go to a lot of these. So I thought that you might want to go. Those were the real plans I made for tonight. I mean, dinner and a movie seemed kind of lame.” Maybe he had called this wrong? But no, Tony’s eyes had lit up, that ridiculously huge smile on his face.

“……seriously, will you marry me?”

Clint laughed, flushing again. He was glad it had turned out to be a good idea after all. “Told you, gotta put a ring on it.”

“I’ll have one by tomorrow morning.” Tony smiled. “Two minutes before noon.”

Clint glanced up. Tony was still smiling, but the look in his eyes was dead serious. He looked away. “Uh, so, what time does this start?”

“Uhhh………good question. Pepper?”

Pepper sighed. “It starts at five. Not that you ever show up on time. Your suit is already hanging up in your room.”

Suit. _Oh shit_. He hadn’t remembered anything to wear.

Tony must have noticed Clint’s sudden discomfit. “What is it?”

“I didn’t remember to bring something to wear.”

“Oh, that’s fine. We’ll go pick something up.”

He stared. “……can’t I just borrow something of yours?”

“Dude, you’re two inches taller than me, and I’m pretty sure you’re more built.” He poked Clint’s chest with one finger. “Think you’d be busting out of my suits like Banner out of his shirts.”

Clint had to smile at that. “Okay.”

“Awesome.” Tony shifted uncomfortably in Clint’s lap. “….dammit, I think you got that ice down my pants.”

“Ha. Serves you right.”

“Hey, you already had me pinned; was the ice really necessary?”

Pepper interrupted. “Boys, how old are you two?”

Tony paused. “……physically, mentally, or emotionally?”

Pepper sighed. Clint shook his head, biting his lip to hold back laughter. “If the two of you are done bickering and throwing things at each other, you should probably get going. You have a decent drive ahead of you, and Clint still needs to get his suit."

“Yea, true.” Tony slid out of Clint’s lap, rolling off the couch to his feet, and the blonde found himself already missing that warmth. “Let’s make a couple more drinks before we go.”

“Are you serious?”

“What, we can take them in the car.” He moved behind the bar, rinsing out their glasses again. Clint looked to the door to see what Pepper’s reaction was to this statement, but she was gone.

“You drink in the car?” He was pretty sure the man was joking (the man was far too intelligent for that) but it was hard to tell with Tony.

“No, not really. But one’s not going to be a problem.”

“One? You’ve had two already.”

“Yea, but not in the car.” Tony said this as though it was completely obvious. Yup, he was joking. “Come on, get it together.” He returned to Clint, handing him a glass. Clint eyed the glass suspiciously.

“…..what’s _this_ one called?”

Tony feigned surprised innocence, wide eyes, a hand to his heart. “What….you don’t _trust_ me?”

“Not at all.”

“I’m _wounded_.” He heaved a sigh, shaking his head. “It’s a Singapour Sling.”

“Okay. Thanks.” _At least it’s not another weird thing, like Panty Hamster_ , he thought as he sipped it. And _damn_ , was it good. “You really know your drinks.”

“Why thank you, good sir.” Tony sat beside him, drinking his own glass. Clint gestured towards it. 

“What’s that?” It looked the same as his.

“Same.” _Ah_. He had guessed right. “Oh, and I lied before.”

“…..what?”

“The drink. It’s not a Singapour Sling.” That wicked smile returned. “It’s a Wild Wet Dream.”

Clint shook his head. “Dammit, Tony!”

Tony just laughed. “What, you don’t like it?”

“Wild Wet Dream?”

“Yea!”

“Seriously, Tony….”

“I had one about you last night….”

Clint almost choked at that, looking at the brunette, but the smile on his face hadn’t altered at all. “………you’re _such_ an ass.”

“Yup.” He drained his glass and set it down with a soft ’clink’, rising. “Better go get dressed. I’ll meet you back down here in a few.” 

Clint nodded. “I’ll be ready.” He watched Tony vanish, shaking his head. _The guy just doesn’t stop_. He sipped his drink. It really was good, he had to admit.

Tony didn’t take long, returning to the living room dressed and ready for the evening, Clint‘s jacket in one hand. Clint could only stare. Usually when he saw Tony he was either in his Iron Man suit or wearing casual clothes….a t-shirt and jeans. Now he was dressed to the nines, a dark blue suit with pinstripes so light as to be nearly invisible, a pale blue shirt and a striped tie in alternating shades of purple. And _damn_ did he look good.

He smiled. “You ready?”

Clint realized suddenly that his throat was dry. He finished the rest of his drink in one gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he nodded. “All set.”

“Okay. Let’s go then.” He tossed Clint his jacket. “Gotta go get you a suit!”

“ _Get_ me one?” He followed Tony down the hallway. “I thought we were just swing by my place and pick one up.”

“Where’s the fun in that? No, we’re gonna go buy one; I’m gonna buy you one.”

“You are _not_ going to buy me one.”

“Yea I am.”

“No you’re not.”

“Try and stop me.”

“Tony….”

“Hey, you said you wanted to take me to this, right?” Tony paused by the front door, keys in hand as he turned to face Clint. “Well _I_ wanna buy you a suit. So let me do it.”

Clint stared at Tony, who stared right back. Finally, he sighed. “Fine. A _cheap_ suit.”

“No way, we’re going fancy.”

“ _God_ , you’re so infuriating.”

“You bet. Gonna make you look spiffy.” Clint shook his head, but he had to smile. He couldn’t help it; Tony just made him smile. “Jarvis, don’t wait up.”

The words were followed by the sound of the door ‘snick’ing shut….somehow it all sounded incredibly ominous.

“Okay….Acura, Audi, or Lamborghini?”

Clint just looked at him. “……is that question for real?”

“Um, yea?”

“……you actually think I care which of three amazing cars we ride in?”

“…………”

Clint shook his head. “Audi?”

“Awesome.”

The collection of cars in the garage was ridiculous….far more than the three that Tony had listed, but it was easy to see why he hadn’t suggested others. Most were expensive restorations. He held open Clint’s door for him, almost like a real date, before slipping into his own side.

“Here….” he passed Clint his phone. “Go through that drink app I showed you…come up with a list. We’ll see how many we can get the bartender to make tonight.”

Clint laughed. “Awesome.” He began scrolling through the items on the screen.

“Okay.” Tony turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared to life. “Let’s roll.”

They sped out of the garage and down the driveway, ACDC blaring from the radio, and Clint had to wonder briefly what the hell he had gotten himself into, but the answer came immediately. Whatever it was, it was going to be a _hell_ of a lot of fun.

 

**-tbc-**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don’t know Hawkeye from the comics, go look at his costume. It’ll help you understand something that occurs later in this chapter. Oh, Hawkeye, your uniform is silly.

Clint had no idea how fast they were going, only that they made it to the center of town about ten minutes sooner than they should have. “………do you even know what a speed limit is?”

“Yup.” Tony unfastened his seatbelt. “Just don’t care.”

“…..you do know that laws still apply to you, right? Just because you’re a billionaire genius doesn’t mean you can’t get arrested.”

“No, I can’t get arrested because I’m awesome.”

“Oh, is that how it works.” Clint followed Tony out of the car. As it got later, the air was cooling down, a slight bite to it. He zipped up his coat.

“Yup. Besides, how fast were you driving earlier, to do a forty five minute drive in less than half an hour?”

_Damn._ Clint hadn’t thought Tony would remember that. “…….I have super powers that the rest of you Avengers don’t know about.”

Tony laughed. “Oh, is that it.”

“That’s it.”

“Really.” Tony fed money to the parking meter. “I think it’s more likely you just go as fast as you damn well want and then, if you get pulled over, you flash that SHIELD badge of yours and tell the police that you’re on a super important mission.

_……….damn._ Tony glanced over at Clint, mirth in his eyes, and Clint didn’t have an immediate snappy comeback. “……..shut up.” Tony burst out laughing, and Clint had to smile; that laugh was infectious. “Dick.”

“Why? Cuz I’m right?” Tony was walking backwards so he could face Clint as they talked, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his overcoat. Clint was waiting for him to trip and fall down.

“Partly. Mainly you’re just a dick.”

“Guess I can see your point.” Tony stopped all of a sudden, his attention caught by something outside one of the shops. There was a display of hats, and one of them seemed to have caught his eye.

“I think you need this.” He moved to the rack of hats, returning to Clint with a winter snow hat, purple with two little points on it, almost like ears. 

Clint looked at the hat, then at Tony. “……why do I need that?”

“It reminds me of you. It’s sort of bird-like.”

“…..bird-like?” Clint looked again. “…..Tony…..it looks like it has ears.”

“…..so?”

“Birds don’t have ears. Not like that, anyway. Not visible ears.”

“…..ah.” Tony nodded. “I see your point.” But he still had the hat in hand, examining it at arm’s length. “………I’m gonna buy it for you.”

“What?”

“Yea, you need it. I’m gonna buy it for you.”

“I’m not going to wear it.”

“Well, _that_ would be rude, not to wear the gift I gave you.”

He sighed. There was really no point in arguing. Tony did what he wanted, no matter what anyone else said. “Fine. But I promise you, I’m going to find something ridiculous and buy it for you, and you’re going to have to wear it.”

Tony paused, considering. “…….fair enough.” He headed inside the shop with that hat. Clint watched him go. _God…..you really can’t frazzle this guy._ Nothing seemed to upset him, ever. Most people had a breaking point where when you had teased them too far, they would snap and get mad…but Tony Stark didn’t seem to have that. At least, not as far as Clint had seen.

There was a jangling of a bell as Tony emerged from the shop, hat in hand. “Here we go.” And before Clint could react, the hat was on his head, Tony tugging it carefully down. It was warm and snuggly, he’d give it that. But he could see his reflection in the shop window, and he looked, in his opinion, like a complete idiot.

“…….Tony…..”

Tony was looking at him, taking it in, and beaming. And Clint had to smile. “……..thanks.”

Tony laughed. “You’re welcome. But you don’t need to thank me. You didn’t even want it.”

Clint chuckled. “Well, yeah, but still. It was nice of you.” They were silent as they walked on together down the street. “……I’m still going to buy you something humiliating.”

“Hnn. I look forward to it.”

“So do I.” Clint glanced at the shops they were passing, at his reflection in the windows. “…….I’m not wearing this to the gala.”

A snort of laughter. “I didn’t think you would.”

“Good.”

Tony stopped in front of one of the shops. “Okay, here we are.” The windows were full of fancy suits, Armani and Gucci and God knows what other labels. He pulled the door open, holding it for Clint.

“Thanks.” Clint stepped inside, looking around. The place was huge, suits and dress shoes as far as the eye could see. And hats. That reminded him of what he had on his own head and he hurriedly tugged off the purple hat. Tony saw the action and grinned. Clint glared. “Shuttup.”

“May I help you gentlemen?” An elderly shopkeeper had approached, dressed in a neatly pressed suit of gray…..three piece, too. _Geez._

“Hello, Robert.”

The man’s eyes lit up with sudden recognition. “Mr. Stark! It’s good to see you again.”

They shook hands. “You, too. This is my friend Clint Barton.”

“How do you do.” The man offered his hand to Clint, who took it. He reminded Clint a little of the butler Alfred from the Batman movies. He had to fight hard not to laugh. 

“So….what can I help you gentlemen with?”

“We need a suit for Clint.”

“Something not too fancy,” Clint immediately interjected, hoping maybe he could cut Tony off before he could begin and get carried away. But he immediately found himself with a face full of Tony’s hand, palm covering his mouth, shoving him away.

“We want something nice. Maybe…..” Tony turned, giving Clint an appraising look. “…..black, probably. Maybe a light gray shirt? Shades of blue for the tie, I think. Very light blue. It’ll bring out the color of his eyes.”

Clint didn’t know what to say to that. The fact that Tony had even noticed his eye color was extremely surprising. He shifted a bit awkwardly on his feet, not sure what to do.

The man returned quickly with some clothes, and Tony grabbed hold of Clint. “Hey! Um, wait, what….where are we going.”

“You have to try them on. Duh.”

“……and you’re coming?”

“Well, I have to show you where the dressing room is.”

Oh. Clint felt silly now. Of course Tony wouldn’t be coming in. There were the dressing rooms, though. But before he could escape, Tony paused, still gripping Clint’s shoulder. “…………I think you need a cravat.”

“……what?”

“A cravat. You know, Jane Austen type stuff.”

“…..Tony…..I am not wearing a cravat.”

“But they’re _awesome_.”

“Yeah, well, then why aren’t _you_ wearing one?”

“Pepper didn’t put one out for me. Besides, do I look like I can tie a cravat? Science I can handle. But tying a cravat? I don’t think so.”

Clint shook his head. “I am _not_ wearing a cravat.”

Tony gave him a look, but Clint just gave it right back, refusing to budge. Finally, Tony gave a theatrical sigh. “Fine, be that way.”

“I will.”

“Get in the dressing room. Go try on your suits.”

“I would’ve done that already if you hadn’t been trying to make me buy a cravat.”

“I wasn’t. I was trying to make you let _me_ buy you a cravat.”

“You really are an ass.”

“Go try on your suits.”

“Then shut up and I will!” Clint grabbed the suits from Tony’s hands and entered the dressing room. After a brief moment’s contemplation, he locked the door behind him. He doubted Tony would enter, but it was never good to gamble on what Tony would or wouldn’t do.

He slipped into the first suit, wondering why the hell they had needed to pick out four suits. They were all black. What was the difference?

“Oi.” There was a loud noise as something connected with the door, shaking it, something that was most likely Tony’s foot. “You have to be dressed by now. Come out and let me see.”

Clint finished adjusting the tie. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

“Oh? Sounds sexy.”

“…..you have issues, you know that?”

“Oh yea. Lots of issues. Now get your ass out here.”

Clint opened the door, stepping out. ‘Alfred’ was gone, only Tony still there, waiting expectantly. His eyes widened slightly when he saw Clint, but he said nothing, leaving the man to stand there, feeling five different shades of stupid. Instead, Tony moved towards the blonde, walking a slow circle around him, examining him from every angle.

Clint felt like he was going to snap. “Okay, Tony, I already feel awkward enough without you examining me like some laboratory experiment.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He came into view again, standing in front of Clint, looking him up and down, but still not saying anything.

Clint felt as if he could snap the man’s neck. “Well?” he demanded.

Tony looked up, smiling at him. “You look _amazing_.”

He couldn’t help but flush. It felt sort of weird getting compliments from a man, especially Tony Stark, who was known for being obnoxious and rude, but he could tell that Tony meant it…..which was almost stranger. He wasn’t sure exactly how to feel. He shoved the feeling away. “Thanks.”

Tony stepped closer, looking closely at the tie, then up at Clint’s eyes, his own eyes narrowing slightly as he examined them closely. His face was mere inches away. “…..I was right. This is a good color for your eyes.”

That proximity was unnerving. “Uh……good?”

“Yea.” Tony smoothed the tie down, his hand running down the front of Clint’s shirt, and backed away. “I don’t even think you need to try on the other suits. I think this is perfect. As long as you’re okay with it?”

Oh, thank God. He didn’t know if he could have handled this another three times. It really was discomfiting. “Yeah, I like it.”

“Good.” Tony began heading towards the counter, then paused, turning back towards Clint. “…….you’re _sure_ I can’t convince you to go for the cravat?” His eyes were glittering with amusement. Clint glared.

“Positive.” 

Tony grinned. “Didn’t think so. Grab your clothes and put your shoes on, and meet me up front. You can just keep the suit on, we’ll put your clothes in a bag and bring them with us.”

“……I don’t have to wear some fancy shoes?”

“Nah, you’ll just be uncomfortable all night. Your sneakers are fine.”

“……..now I think _I_ love _you_.”

Tony laughed. “Don’t tease. I may just take you at your word, and then where will we be?” He turned away, heading to the counter and leaving Clint behind. 

The man quickly shoved his shoes back on, not bothering to untie them again, and scooped up all his clothes, joining Tony up front. The man already had a bag, and held it out for Clint. The blonde reached out to put his clothes in, but paused. There was something in there already. “……….Tony……what’s that?”

“What’s what?” But the words were far too innocent. Clint reached in, grasping the smooth piece of ivory silk, and pulled it out, holding it up to examine it.

“……….Tony……you did not buy me a cravat.”

“…….of course I didn’t. Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re a pain in the ass.”

“……..this is true.”

Clint sighed. “What the fuck did you buy me a cravat for?”

Tony did that same little half shrug-half nod that he had done earlier that day. “I don’t know. You never know when a cravat’s gonna come in handy.”

Clint just stared at him. “…………..you know, I have no response to that. I really don’t think there _is_ a response to that.” 

“So you’re not gonna argue with me?”

“Is there a point? You always win.”

“Oh, good. You’re learning.”

“God, I hate you sometimes.”

“No you don’t. I’m your favorite person ever.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

‘Alfred’ was staring at them, unsure. “……is there anything more I can get for you gentlemen?”

“No thanks, Robert, we’re all set here.” Tony offered the bag again and, with a sigh, Clint dropped his clothes and the cravat into it. Smiling, Tony lead the way to the door, once again holding it open for Clint.

“…..now I’m _really_ going to buy you something humiliating.”

**~tbc~**


	4. The Abbington Benefit Gala

Tony screeched to a halt in front of what had to be one of the largest buildings Clint had ever seen. The car must have been recognizable, for the valets immediately began falling all over each other in an effort to be the first to reach them, to be the one who got to park Tony Stark’s car.

Clint stared at the building. He was somewhat dreading the experience. He wanted to bring Tony, knew that Tony would enjoy this…..but he didn’t relish the thought of the crowds. The entryway alone was milling with people; he couldn’t imagine what the inside of the building looked like.

While he was still contemplating, Tony slid from the car, moving around and opening Clint’s door, offering his hand. Clint blinked up at him.

“My good sir.” The words were spoken in an air of such formal over-exaggeration, along with the courtly gesture of offering his hand, something a man would do for his lady friend, and Clint couldn’t help a snicker of laughter. He brushed off Tony’s hand.

“Ass.”

Tony heaved a sigh. “Fine, don’t accept my offer of gallantry. I see how it is.”

“I’m not a damsel, Tony.”

“No, but you’re just so pretty.” He reached out and pinched Clint’s cheek. Again, Clint swatted his hand away.

“Don’t make me kill you.”

“Like you could.”

“Are you kidding me? I could kick your ass in five seconds.”

“……..this is true. What was I thinking?”

“I have no idea.” He noticed that people were staring. Everyone was staring. And not just staring…..whispering. Clint had known that Tony would be the object of much attention, but he hadn’t expected it to be this bad. Then he realized that a lot of the attention was focused on him. _Why are they looking at **me**?_

Tony was watching him. 

“…..sorry, did you say something?”

“Nope. You just seem sort of zoned out.”

“Yeah. Just……a lot of people.”

“…..did you want to leave?”

Tony was genuinely concerned. It was so strange. All this afternoon, Clint had seen a side of Tony he had never seen before, never really expected to see. Tony had always been open, and friendly, but today he had shown Clint another side……soft, and caring. It was……unsettling. Nice, but unsettling nonetheless. 

He shook his head. “No. No, I want to go.”

Tony smiled. “Okay. If you’re sure.” He turned back towards the entrance, and Clint followed him. “So, how do you want me to introduce you?”

“…..introduce me?”

“Well, yea. People are going to be wondering who you are. Do I give them your full name, are you Agent Barton, Hawkeye?” The last was said teasingly.

“………can’t I be anonymous?”

“Sorry, pal. You’re here now. People have seen you. You’re officially someone.” 

And then the crowd was all around them, the noise almost deafening. Tony turned to him. “…besides, you’re my date.”

Clint almost choked. “What the fuck. I am _not_ your date.”

“Yea you are. You invited me, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but…..”

“That makes you my date.”

He opened his mouth to protest again, but then there was a reporter there, shoving a microphone in Tony’s face. “Tony, darling! How lovely to see you tonight!”

Clint was happy to see that he wasn’t the only one who wanted to smack the woman, though Tony was hiding it much better. Then again, he’d had much more practice, attending all these galas for so many years.

He only realized that he had tuned out Tony’s conversation when the woman’s attention landed on him. “And who’s your handsome friend here?” _Oh God._

“Clint Barton.”

Oh. That hadn’t been nearly as traumatizing as Clint had thought. He’d honestly expected Tony to say something truly embarrassing. 

“He’s my date.”

 _…….oh God._ “His friend,” Clint cut in, unable to miss the way the woman’s eyes widened, or the fact that Tony’s words had been spoken directly into that damn microphone, which was probably recording every word. God knows what she was going to do with the information. “I’m his friend.”

“And my date.”

Clint fixed Tony with a death glare. Tony beamed back at him.

“…..well…..” The woman finally seemed to have found her voice again. Clint wished she had stayed shocked, if only just to keep her shut up. “…………..how did you two meet?”

_Oh God._ Clint fumbled desperately for a way to do damage control before Tony could make this any worse, but Tony was already looping an arm around his shoulders. “Oh, we met on a vacation in Acapulco, didn’t we, sweetheart?”

“Tony, I swear to God, I am going to kill you.”

The reporter was just loving this. Tony was grinning, but seemed to finally take pity on Clint. “Nah, we work together. Clint’s a SHIELD agent. Best shot I’ve ever seen.”

Despite his embarrassment and irritation, Tony’s compliment gave Clint a little twinge of pride and pleasure. The reporter looked slightly deflated to know that the two men weren’t actually a couple. He still didn’t trust her not to write some huge newspaper piece about their alleged Acapulco vacation. _Dammit, Tony._

“Well, we have a party to get to. Shall we?” Tony led Clint away and inside. 

“God damn you, Tony,” Clint hissed under his breath.

Tony grinned. “Sorry.”

“Bullshit.”

“I am! I mean……I’m sorry but I’m not? If that makes sense. Come on……it was funny.”

Clint glared. “I fail to see the humor.”

“Come on.” They stopped, Tony leaning against the bar. “Can you picture the two of us in Acapulco, strolling on a beach at sunset, wearing Bermuda shorts and flip-flops, drinking margaritas with those little paper umbrellas in the glasses?”

The mental image really was hilarious, and Clint bit back a snort of laughter.

Tony was obviously happy to see him laugh. “See?”

“Yeah, okay, it’s a funny mental image.”

“Okay. So yea…….I’m glad I said it, cuz it was funny…..but I’m sorry I embarrassed you. You took me here, I shouldn’t do that.”

It was really funny seeing Tony actually apologize for something. Clint smiled. “It’s okay.” He gave him another punch to the shoulder. “Ass.”

“Ow. Jerk. Oh!” Their proximity to the bar had apparently kick-started Tony’s memory. “The drinks…..did you make a drink list?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Well, what’re we waiting for.” Tony grabbed the sleeve of Clint’s jacket, spinning him to face the bar. “Let’s do it.”

It didn’t take even a full minute for the bartender to reach them. It must be nice being Tony Stark. It sucked having to fight your way through the other bar patrons to get one fucking drink. Tony didn’t even have to wave his hand. 

He realized Tony had turned to him, was waiting. “What do you want?” the brunette asked.

Clint gave Tony a watered down version of that patented evil glare. “I want my damn Singapour Sling.”

For a moment, Tony looked bewildered, then he burst into laughter.

“Not funny. You denied me earlier. You said it was a Singapour Sling and you gave me a damn Wild Wet Dream. So I’m gonna have it now.”

Tony could barely get his laughter under control, raising two fingers to the bartender. “Two Singapour Slings, please.”

The bartender looked as though he wasn’t sure whether he should be amused or not. He simply opted for making the drinks as fast as possible and handing them over without comment. Apparently this was the right thing to do, for Tony gave him a huge tip. “Shall we?”

“Sure.” Clint wasn’t exactly sure what Tony meant, but followed him anyway. “….where are we going.”

“No idea.”

“…..well, what’s this gala all about, anyway?”

“Not a clue.”

He cracked up. “You don’t even know what your own gala is about?”

“Well, technically it’s not my gala.” Tony threaded his way through the crowd, making a path for Clint to follow.

“No, but from what I understand, you pay for most of it.”

“………….true.”

“….and you don’t know what it’s about.”

“…..I pay for a lot of galas. I can’t be expected to keep track of them all.”

“Oh, yeah. Because you’re just so slow-witted. How can we expect you to remember these things?”

They had managed to make their way through the crowd. Apparently they were going to simply stop on the opposite end of the room…….not very far from yet another bar. Clint liked where this was going. With a crowd this large, and most of the people in it still staring at him and Tony, he would need a lot of alcohol to get through this night.

Tony sat down…….on the edge of a table full of food. “I’d rather think about other things.”

“Mm. Like being obnoxious?”

Tony shook his head. “I don’t need to think about that, it’s a natural gift.” Clint laughed. Tony gestured. “Sit down.”

“Tony, that’s a table full of food.”

“True; and as you pointed out, I paid for most of it.”

“I still don’t think people want your ass near it.”

“Hey, a lot of people in this room have been much closer to my ass than this.”

“Like you had to remind me?”

“Need I remind you once again of how many people have been up close and personal with YOUR fine physique?”

“No, I think you made your point earlier.”

“Good. Then sit down.” Tony yanked the front of Clint’s coat, and the blonde almost crashed into the table, nearly spilling his drink.

“Dammit, Tony.”

Tony ignored him, plucking a grape from a tray of fruit and offering it up. “Grape?” 

Sighing, Clint sat beside him, accepting the offered fruit. “Thanks.”

“Tastes really good with the alcohol.”

He was right about that. Clint grabbed another. The alcohol was damn good, and along with Tony’s company, was helping him relax. Plucking another grape from the stem, he held it up, as if to throw it at Tony. “Go long.”

Tony laughed, positioning himself better, opening his mouth. Clint threw the grape and it bounced off Tony’s cheek. “Dammit.”

“Again?” A nod of agreement, but still no luck. Soon the floor was scattered with grapes, the two men laughing like a pair of teenagers when they were interrupted.

“…….okay, boys.” Pepper put her hand over Clint’s, lowering it. “I think you’ve had enough grapes now.”

Tony looked up at her. “Party pooper.”

“That’s me.”

With the sudden interruption, Clint realized once again how many eyes were on them, and since their impromptu game of grape football, the attention had only grown. The floor was littered with too many grapes to count.

“Clint, my friend. I can’t help but notice that your glass is empty.”

Clint looked down at his glass. Somehow a grape had found his way into it, and he couldn’t help but snicker. “Not quite.” 

Tony looked, saw the grape, and let out what could almost be called a giggle, which set Clint to laughing all over again. Pepper shook her head, and if Clint weren’t so amused, he would have felt sorry for her.

“Well……after you’ve consumed your last grape……what do you want for your next drink?”

“Hmm….” Clint popped the grape into his mouth, considering. “…..how about a Black Russian?”

Immediately, a cloud descended over Tony’s face. “No. Nothing Russian.”

Clint stared, surprised. He had no idea what had brought on this swift mood change. “Um…..okay?” He glanced at Pepper, but for some reason, she didn’t look surprised at all, only amused. “…..maybe a Berserker?”

Tony seemed satisfied with that, the cloud clearing from his face. “Okay. I’ll be right back.” He rose from the table, moving to the bar. 

Clint looked up at Pepper. “What was _that_ about?” But she simply shrugged enigmatically, that small smile still on her face.

“I don’t know.”

He frowned. “Yes, you do.”

“Why Agent Barton, are you calling me a liar?”

But before he could answer, Tony was back, handing Clint his drink and looking for all the world as if nothing had happened, that smile back on his face. He gestured to the dance floor with a jerk of his chin. “What do you think about the music? Any lovely ladies catch your eye?” There was something very specific about the question, as though Tony was doing more than make idle conversation, as if he really truly wanted to know if Clint had his eye on anyone.

Clint couldn’t help looking out at the dance floor. To be honest, he hadn’t been looking at any of the women tonight. He’d only had eyes for Tony. The thought brought heat to his face, and he looked down at the drink in his hands.

“Ah…..I don’t dance.”

“Not even with ‘Tasha’?” Tony’s gaze was steely, calculating. He was watching Clint closely, gauging every tiny reaction. _Why is he so interested?_

“…..Tasha’s not really one for dancing..”

“So you’ve tried.”

“Tony,” Pepper was still nearby, spreading some brie on a slice of bread, “…you’re looking a little green.”

Clint looked at Tony, not understanding. “…..are you feeling sick?”

Tony’s face looked odd. Not mad, not upset, just…. strange. Clint didn’t know what it was. Over Tony’s shoulder, he saw Pepper shake her head, smiling as she mouthed the word _‘Jealous’._

_……jealous?_ Why would Tony be jealous of Tasha? _There’s no **way** all this flirting is for real._

Tony noticed where Clint‘s gaze was, and turned to Pepper, the look on his own face not very pleased. He hadn‘t seen what she said but obviously he wasn‘t happy about it nonetheless. “Yes, thank you, Pepper, I think we’re all set here.”

Still smiling, Pepper walked past them, rubbing Clint’s shoulder as she walked by. “Night, boys.”

Clint looked from Pepper back to Tony. The man still didn’t look fully happy. “……hey.” Tony looked at him. Clint drained his glass in one go. He barely tasted it, but it was one way to get Tony’s attention, and maybe get him back on track. He raised the empty glass, giving it a little shake. “….c’mon. Keep up.”

And there it was. The smile was back. “You got it.” And the glass was empty. Tony set it on the table. “Okay….well, we need to do something besides sit on the table all night. Or lurk at the bar.”

“……like what?”

“I have no idea. Usually at these things I try to avoid reporters…unless they’re hot……and hang with the pretty girls. But I’ve got a date already.”

“Tony…..” But Clint didn’t feel like arguing the point this time. He wasn’t sure that Tony was joking. And, maybe even worse, Clint didn’t know for certain that he didn’t _want_ to be Tony’s date. The thought was disconcerting.

“So……I vote we just sort of make the rounds……and drink heavily.”

Clint laughed. “I like the second part.”

“I thought you would.” Tony grabbed a banana from the table. “Well then, shall we?”

“…..with the banana?”

“Sure, they’re good.”

“I’ve eaten bananas, I know they’re good.”

“Then you should know why I’m bringing it with me.” He stuck the banana in his pocket and grabbed a second. “You want anything?”

Stifling a laugh, Clint shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”

Again, that little half nod, half shrug. “Suit yourself. Okay, let’s hit the bar, then make the rounds.”

If the bartender was surprised to see Tony back so soon, he didn’t show it. “Two Wet Pussys, please.”

This time Clint did choke. “What the fuck?!”

Tony looked at Clint. “Problem?”

“I think _you_ have some _serious_ problems.”

“Yea, definitely.”

“What is it with you and the sexual drinks?”

“They’re good.”

“Or you’re a pervert.”

“That too.” He accepted the drinks, handing over another outlandish tip, and handed one to Clint. The blonde shook his head at Tony. 

“………ass.” But, sipping the drink, he had to admit Tony was right; it was good.

Tony had that tiny smirk on his face; he already knew what Clint was going to say.

“…..shut up.”

“Ha. I’m right.”

“Okay, it’s good. Now shut up.”

“You should know by now that I don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Shut up.” 

“Yeah, I’m beginning to see that.” 

Tony had lead the way to the edge of the crowd. “Okay. Once more into the breach?”

Clint let out an exaggerated sigh. “If we must.” 

They pushed their way into the crowd, Tony looking over his shoulder so he could speak to Clint as they walked. “You know, at this rate, we’re going to end up double-fisting within the hour.”

“Fucking pervert.”

Tony stopped dead, turning to face Clint. “…….I meant the drinks. Double-fisting the drinks.”

“………oh.” Clint could feel his face turning red, and still redder as Tony’s grin grew. “……shut up.”

“Pervert.”

“Hey! You’re the one who keeps making all these comments and ordering the dirty drinks. You’re corrupting my mind!”

“Oh, sure, like it’s so innocent to begin with.”

“Fuck you.”

“What, now? Here?” Tony looked from side to side, at the crowd surrounding them. “I know I donate a lot of money, but I still don’t think that’ll fly. My car is just outside, though….”

Clint punched Tony’s shoulder, and the drink sloshed over the side, wetting his shoes. Tony glanced up at Clint.

“………see what you did? My nice shoes.”

“You were being an ass.”

“Propositioning you isn’t allowed?” Tony heaved an exaggerated sigh. “We’re going to have a difficult night, then. I doubt I’ll be able to stop myself from doing it again.” And, taking a sip of his drink, he began moving through the crowd again. 

“…..I didn’t ruin your shoes, did I?”

“Ha, don’t worry about it. They’ll clean up just fine.”

“Mr. Stark!”

Oh, God. Another reporter. Tony rolled his eyes at Clint, but his face was calm as he turned to the woman. Clint realized suddenly that both bananas were gone. Tony only had his drink in his hand. _Did he eat it and I missed it?_

“Mr. Stark, who’s your friend, here?”

“This is Ishmael Fujimoto.”

Clint somehow managed to turn his burst of laughter into an extremely loud cough. The woman reporter gave him a very odd look. “Well…….how did you and……Mr. Fujimoto……meet?”

“At a sumo wrestling exhibition in Scotland.”

“….ah…….that’s…..very interesting.”

“No, I’m totally shitting you. His name’s Clint, he works with SHIELD.”

Clint was actually glad Tony had fessed up; he felt as if he was going to explode from trying to hold back his laughter.

The reporter, on the other hand, didn’t look too pleased that Tony had been lying to her. “Oh.”

Tony either didn’t notice her irritation or, much more likely with Tony, didn’t care. And then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a banana, and began peeling it. The woman’s eyes widened, and if she had looked upset before, she looked doubly so now. Tony still didn’t react, simply began calmly eating his banana. “Yea. Should see him shoot a bow. It’s epically badass.”

The words “epically badass” elicited another snort of laughter, and Clint was done for. Tony and his banana had caught the attention of other nearby photographers, and they had begun to move closer. The reporter looked ready to explode with anger. Clint wasn’t even trying to hold back his laughter anymore; he wouldn’t have been successful, anyway. There were people taking pictures, and he knew what a sight the two of them must make: Tony with his banana, Clint doubled over laughing.

“If you excuse me, I think Clint is having a seizure. I’d better get him some vodka.” And he wrapped an arm around Clint’s shaking shoulders, guiding him through the crowd of reporters and photographers, weaving their way to the bar.

Clint practically collapsed onto a stool, stomach aching from the laughter. “Oh my God, Tony.”

Tony finally allowed himself a smile, that trademark grin, now that he was away from the press. “Yea?”

“You……oh my God. You are such an ass.”

“You know, you say that a lot.”

“Well, it bears repeating.”

Tony just grinned, finishing off his banana.

“…..epically badass?” Clint echoed.

“What…..you don’t like it?”

“You think I’m epically badass?”

“Indeed I do.”

“………….thanks.” He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. It was hilarious on one hand, but an extremely cool compliment on the other.

“No need. It’s true.” Tony finished off his drink. “You’re way more badass than the rest of us. I mean, Steve and Bruce are genetically altered. Thor is a god. I’ve got a suit of armor that can die at any second if this,” he tapped his chest, and Clint could hear the tiny noise of the metal disk in his chest, “gets damaged. In which case I die, too, so I guess that point’s moot. You and Tasha are the only ones who rely completely on your physical strength, on skills you acquired yourselves. And honestly, you’re much more badass than Tasha. She’s good, but…..you’re more impressive.”

Clint didn’t know what to say. “…….I……“ He sat silent, at a loss for words. “…….thanks,” he said at last. “That….that really means a lot.”

Tony smiled. “Are we having a bonding moment? Should we hug it out?”

Clint laughed. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Tony held out his arms, grinning. “Hug?”

Clint burst out laughing. “Ass.” But, and he couldn’t have said why, he leaned forward into Tony’s arms, hugging him back. Tony still had that calming warmth Clint had noticed earlier. It was strange how comfortable it was to embrace him. Clint didn’t know who was more surprised by the hug, him or Tony. By the look on Tony’s face when they pulled apart, he would guess it was Tony.

“…….wow.” Tony was now the one at a loss for words. “……I honestly wasn’t expecting you to actually give me a hug.”

“Ah….yeah.” Clint gave a little laugh. “Sorry?”

“……are you actually sorry?”

“……no.”

“Oh, good.” There was a pause, and then Tony punched Clint’s shoulder.

“Ow!”

“Don’t apologize for things you’re not sorry for! Geez.” He shifted on his barstool, turning slightly away from Clint, more towards the bar itself. “….make me worry.”

Clint was starting to come to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe, Tony might actually be flirting for real. Not just teasing, but actually flirting. Whether his feelings were real or just a passing fling, that would remain to be seen. But it was becoming obvious that, one way or another, Tony was interested. The knowledge created a strange feeling deep in Clint’s gut. A churning, unsettled feeling, not altogether unpleasant, but utterly confusing. He wasn’t sure how to deal with the situation, with trying to sort through his own feelings for Tony. There was obviously only one solution: get heavily drunk.

“Ah……you said something about drinking heavily?”

Tony laughed. “I did indeed. So, what’ll it be?”

“If it follows the same pattern as the rest of this evening, I’m assuming it’ll be something extremely perverse sounding.”

Tony sighed, shaking his head. “You are no fun whatsoever.”

“Then why’d you invite me?”

“Technically, _you_ invited _me_.”

“True. Why’d I do that?”

“God only knows. I’m a horrible date.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You let me throw grapes at you.”

“This is true.” Tony drummed his fingers on the bar, contemplating. “…..how about some Wild Sex?”

Clint sighed. “Sure.”

“Really? Okay, where do you wanna do this? My car IS right outside, or, if you wanna be REALLY kinky, we could do it right here on the bar…..”

Clint punched Tony yet again. “Fucker.”

“Hey, _you’re_ the one who agreed.”

“You knew exactly what I was agreeing to.”

“So you say….” Tony turned to the bartender, who was waiting. If the man was at all fazed by their conversation, he wasn’t showing it. “Two, please.” The drinks were ready within a minute.

“Geez, it must be nice to be you.”

“Hmm?” Tony looked up at Clint over the rim of his glass. “What’re you talking about?”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a drink at a bar? You practically have to shank someone just to make it through the crowd, to say nothing of getting the damn bartender’s attention.”

Tony grinned. “You could just flash him.”

Clint glared. “Be serious.”

“I am! A body like that…..you’d be set all night.”

“You’re such a fucking pain in the ass.” All the drinks of the day were beginning to set in and Clint could feel his head getting a little fuzzy. It was a nice feeling.

“Yea. Hey. Hey.” Tony had spun on his stool so he was facing Clint, leaning on the bar. He gestured towards the reporter they had just spoken to. “…how much do you think that woman hates me right now?”

Clint snorted. “Oh, man. She was so pissed.”

“Ha.” Tony tossed back the rest of his drink. If Clint was feeling buzzed, he had no clue what Tony must feel like. “Her own damn fault. You know, these things….the galas…..are fun….but I have to say….it is infinitely more entertaining with you here.”

That pleased Clint more than he thought it should. “Yeah?”

Tony nodded. “Yea. I’ve had more fun with you today than I’ve had in……hell. I don’t know.”

Clint had a funny feeling in his stomach. _Heavily drunk_ , he reminded himself. He quickly tossed back the rest of his drink, taking a deep breath. “I think we need some shots.”

Tony’s brows shot up; he smiled. “Yea? What’re you thinking? Vodka? Tequila?”

“Maybe both.”

If Tony had looked surprised before, Clint didn’t know how to describe his expression now. His brows were practically invisible in his hairline. “…..both?”

“Fuck yeah.” Clint gestured to the bar. “Line ‘em up.”

Tony gestured the bartender over. “Shots. Three vodka, three tequila. Each.”

This time, the bartender was too surprised not to speak up. “…….together?” He stared at them. “You want the vodka and the tequila together?”

“…….yes. That’s why I ordered them together.” Tony spoke slowly as though speaking to a dimwitted child. The man nodded and moved off. Clint snickered.

“Nice.”

“Hey, it should’ve been obvious.”

“Well, it IS a pretty nasty mix.”

“Hey, YOU wanted it.”

“Still do.”

“Even though it’s nasty?”

“Ass-nasty.”

“Oh, ‘ass-nasty’, is it?”

“Yup. Ass-nasty.”

“Is that a technical term?”

“Yup. Learned it in SHIELD.”

“Dammit. How come I’m left out of the loop?”

“Cuz Fury and Coulson don’t like you.”

“….this is true.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such an obnoxious bastard.”

“Hey, just because they can’t handle my winning personality….”

The bartender returned with a tray, the shot glasses on it, as well as the slices of lime and the salt shakers that accompanied the tequila.

Clint looked to Tony. “……how do you want to do this?”

“….well. I say let’s make it as ‘ass-nasty’ as possible and alternate. One vodka, one tequila, and so on.”

“…….you’re right. That really IS disgusting.”

“Ah ah…..’ass-nasty’.”

Clint laughed. “I should never have said that, should I.”

“Nope. I’m not gonna stop using it now.”

“God.” Clint reached for one of the salt shakers, and a slice of lime. 

“Wait.” Tony paused, holding his own slice of lime.

“What?”

“……we need some sort of bet.”

“Bet?” _Oh dear._ Tony had a look on his face, pondering. “……..oh, this cannot be good.”

“Oh, come on. We race to see who finishes first, and the loser has to do…….something.”

“……yeah, I really don’t like where this is going.”

“….so, do you wanna leave it open ended? Like, whoever wins can pick what they want the prize to be?”

Clint’s answer came immediately. “No.”

Tony looked legitimately surprised, which Clint did not understand at ALL. He thought it should be obvious why that was a bad idea. “What? Why?”

“Because you are evil and I do not trust you not to do something horrible to me.”

Tony’s hand flew to his heart, innocent surprise going to his face. “You wound me.”

“Yeah, bullshit.” 

“And now you call me a liar.” Tony sighed, shaking his head. “You’re so mean to me.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Okay, then…..do you have any ideas for a bet?”

“……….I think the bet is a really bad plan.”

“……..wuss.”

Immediately Clint’s fighting spirit roared to life. “I am NOT a wuss!”

Tony grinned. “Are too. Why else would you be refusing the challenge?”

Oh, no way. Clint Barton never backed down from a challenge. “…….fine. Name your bet.”

Tony was silent for a long moment, thinking. “……okay. I’ve got another gala in about a month. You come with me.”

Clint was shocked. He’d been expecting something far worse than that. He also couldn’t help feeling a little touched. The fact that, out of everything he could choose, Tony had chosen to ask Clint to another gala…….that was special. 

But Tony wasn’t done yet. He smiled. “……and you wear the cravat.”

Clint burst out laughing. “Okay, okay, fine.” Tony was grinning, and Clint couldn’t help but mirror the expression. “Honestly, I was expecting something much worse.”

“Oh yea?” Tony’s smile grew, and there was something a bit unreadable in his eyes, something a bit wicked. “Maybe later.”

“…….I don’t like that look in your eyes…”

“Oh?” Tony just smiled. “Suck it up.” He picked up the first shot glass of vodka. “…you ready?”

Clint raised his own shot glass, looking at it and sighing. “….God, this is going to be so disgusting.”

Tony laughed. “I say again, your fault. You chose it.”

“Don’t remind me. Okay. Ready?”

“Go.”

The two alcohols made a truly revolting combination. Clint wasn’t sure how he was even keeping it all down. _Why the hell did I choose to do this?_ He banged the final glass down on the table and opened his eyes, looked over. Tony was watching him, amusement on his face, all six glasses empty.

“……do you always shut your eyes when you do shots?”

Clint hadn’t even realized he had. But he thought for a minute. “……maybe? I don’t know. Shut up.”

Tony laughed. “Hey, it’s cool. It’s actually kinda cute.”

Clint could feel his cheeks flush. He picked up a slice of lime from the counter. “I will throw this at you.” 

Tony just laughed again. “You will not.”

“Wanna bet?”

Tony grinned. Clint just shook his head. The bartender was attempting to clean up the mess they had made. Clint noticed that several lime slices had landed on the floor at their feet. 

Tony grimaced. “My mouth tastes nasty.”

“Ass-nasty?”

“Ha. Yea. Nice drink choice.”

“Thanks.” The aftertaste of the alcohol really was gross. He realized that Tony was looking intently at him. “……what.”

“Nothing. You’ve got a little….” the brunette reached out, thumb gently brushing away some lime juice from beside Clint’s lip. “……lime juice.”

Clint’s face was burning. He hoped he wasn’t as red as he felt. “……thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, thank you.” The bartender had set down two glasses of water. “Get rid of this damn aftertaste.” He took a sip. “…..never make a suggestion like that again.”

Clint laughed. “Can’t make any promises.”

“I guess if it does the trick, we’re okay.”

“Mm.” Clint’s emotions were still running wild, stomach flip-flopping. If anything, it had only grown worse. He prayed that the alcohol would kick in quickly, and that things would become easier to understand. 

“Have you heard that quote,” he spoke up suddenly, not knowing what possessed him to do so. “Drunken actions are sober thoughts?”

Tony looked at him, surprised. “……yea. I have.”

“…..what do you think about it?”

Tony was quiet for a moment, simply looking at Clint. “……I think there’s some merit to it.”

“…..oh.” 

Tony didn‘t speak up immediately, and when he did, his voice was unusually quiet for him. “……..why…..what do you think?”

Clint was silent for a long moment. “…….I’m not sure.” He looked up at Tony. “…….I have a feeling I’m going to find out.”

 

**~tbc~**


	5. Escape Routes

Clint had no idea how long it had been since the shots, or how many drinks he and Tony had consumed since then, only that his head was spinning in an extremely pleasant way, and that the weight of Tony’s body leaning against his own felt ridiculously good. They were both laughing, he had no idea what about, but it didn’t matter. He had a drink in his hand. He didn’t know what it was. He realized that he really had no idea what was going on at all. But with that thought came the knowledge that it didn’t really matter. He was having more fun than he’d had in….well….longer than he could remember. And Tony was there. 

Tony’s hand grabbed his shoulder. “Hey…..there’s Coulson.”

Clint looked around the room. “What…..where?”

“There!” Tony pointed, which still didn’t really help, since his hand was none too steady, the gesture wavering. He almost lost his balance on his stool, hand gripping Clint’s shoulder tighter to steady himself, and Clint almost giggled.

“Ass.”

“Shut up. Do you see him?”

“No.”

“He’s right there!”

“……..oh! Oh yeah!” It was hard to see through the crowd, but Coulson was there, his usual enigmatic smile in place. A sudden thought hit, and Clint grabbed Tony’s arm. “Dude….dude. Give him a Panty Hamster.”

Tony burst out laughing. “Oh my God. Do you think he’d kill me? I think he’d kill me.”

“So what? It’d be HILARIOUS!”

“So what?! I mean, YEA it’d be hilarious, but “so what”? THAT’S your reaction to Coulson killing me?”

“You know what I meant!”

“Tch, right, sure. You just want me dead.”

“Shut up, you know that’s not true.”

“If you say so.”

“Tony, I’m gonna kill you.”

“See? You’re not even gonna wait for Coulson to do it, you’re just gonna do it yourself.”

“Tony, shut up. You’re awesome and I love you and you know it.”

“Ooooh!” Tony turned to face Clint, smile lighting up his face. “You LOVE me?”

Clint knew he should be embarrassed, but he was too drunk. He rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah. Desperately.”

“AWESOME.”

Clint just shook his head, grinning. “Such an ass.”

“Yup. So….” he looked at Clint. “…..Panty Hamster?”

“Heh. Yeah. Sounds like a good plan.”

“….actually, it sounds like a TERRIBLE plan. But we should do it anyway.” He turned to the bartender. “One Panty Hamster, please?”

Clint snickered. “Oh, man.”

Tony grinned at him. “What.”

“This. This is gonna be EPIC.”

“I think this may result in my death.”

“Yeah, but you’ll go out with a bang.”

“Tales will be told of this day.”

“Epic poems written of your glorious death.”

“Sounds good.” Tony rose, hand still using Clint’s shoulder to steady himself. “Okay……come on. You’re coming with me.”

“Oh, am I?” Clint had planned on going, but he just had to push at that authoritative tone in Tony’s voice.

“Yea. I may need protection, and you’re trained in combat.”

Clint cracked up. “Dude, first of all, I’m drunk off my ass. Secondly, it’s Coulson. I don’t think anyone but Fury knows for sure what he’s capable of.”

“…………that’s even more reason why you’re coming with me.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

The crowd parted for them, letting them pass easily. The attention had grown ten-fold since they had gotten drunk, and in that drunkenness, gotten louder, but for the first time that night, Clint couldn’t give a damn. They reached Coulson without a problem.

“Hey, Coulson!”

Coulson turned towards them, his face still wearing that smooth, mysterious smile, even though Clint would wager a guess that the mere sound of Tony’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard to him. “Hello, gentlemen.”

“How’re you enjoying the evening?”

“Oh, it’s very nice.”

“Glad to hear it.” Tony held out the glass. “Got you a drink.”

“Oh?” Coulson’s voice had a slight question to it, but he accepted the drink nonetheless. “Thank you.” He took a sip, pausing as he considered the taste. Clint was biting his lip to hold back his laughter; he didn’t know how he hadn’t split it yet, he was biting so hard. He had no idea how Tony was keeping a straight face.

“……this is very good. What is it?”

“It’s called a Panty Hamster.”

There was silence. Coulson slowly turned to look at Tony, at Clint. Clint knew that look. He grabbed Tony’s arm. 

“Oh, shit, he’s pissed. Run!”

The two men ran, crashing into people in the crowd as they fled Coulson’s wrath, laughing. Tony stumbled and fell behind. When he looked up, Clint was gone. “What the fuck? Clint, you asshole!”

Clint snickered from his hiding place in the rafters above, watching Tony. The brunette plopped down onto a bar stool, pouting. “Asshole,” he repeated. The bartender tapped him on the shoulder. “What.” Silently, discreetly, the man pointed upwards. Tony looked where the man was pointing, and saw Clint, who grinned and waved. “You motherfucker!” Clint only laughed. “I swear to God….” He turned to the bartender. “Thanks. Hey, I need one more drink….”

Clint settled down to get comfortable. He always had felt safer in high places, and Coulson‘s wrath was definitely something to hide from. He felt bad leaving Tony, but he hadn’t realized that the man had fallen behind until he was too far away, and the crowd had closed between them.

Speaking of Tony……the man was no longer at the bar. Clint had looked away for an instant, and the man had vanished.

“Looking for me?”

Clint whirled around. Tony was behind him. He smiled. “Yeah.”

“You LEFT me!”

“Hey, Coulson won’t kill YOU. You’re technically still a civilian. ME, on the other hand….”

“I can’t believe you LEFT me.” Tony shook his head, sighing. “And to think I brought you a drink.”

For the first time, Clint noticed the glass in Tony’s hand. “…..how the hell did you get a drink up here?”

Tony smirked. “Cuz I’m awesome.”

“No, seriously, what the fuck.”

“I’ve got moves you’ve never seen.”

“Tony…”

“I could show you some.”

“I bet you could.”

“Maybe later?”

“Maybe.”

Tony arched a brow at that. “ _Really_.”

Clint felt a little flush at the expression on Tony‘s face, the tone of his voice. “…….maybe…..” He still wasn’t quite sure how he felt about this whole situation, but Tony was definitely having an effect on him. The man smiled, moving closer, holding out the glass. Clint accepted it.

“So, what is it this time?”

Tony sat down beside him…..right beside him. Clint could feel Tony‘s leg against his, their knees bumping. It was nice. “It’s called Sex with Tony.”

Clint cracked up laughing; he gave Tony a shove. “That is NOT a drink.”

“Okay, it’s really called Sex with Jennifer, but Sex with Tony is INFINITELY more fun, believe me.”

“Oh, I think I do.” He looked at Tony, a smile on his face, and couldn’t miss the quiet surprise there in those brown eyes. Silence fell between them. Clint wasn’t sure if he had gone too far. Those words had been a very big step for him, but he had to say them. For some reason, it had felt right.

“…….can I have a sip of that?”

“What? Oh.” Clint had forgotten all about the drink in his hand. He smiled. “The Sex with Tony?”

Tony chuckled. “Yeah. That.” Clint offered it, and Tony took a sip…..more than a sip, really. He looked as if he were looking for a shot of courage. It was strange.

Clint looked down at the room below them. He still had no idea how Tony had gotten up there. As far as he knew, the man didn’t have any spectacular climbing skills, but he seemed to have gotten up there without any difficulty, AND without anyone noticing. At least, none of the guests were looking up at the rafters. No one seemed to know they were there.

“Would it be weird if I told you I loved you?”

Clint’s head whipped around so fast that he nearly fell from the rafters. Putting out a hand to steady himself, he stared at Tony. The man’s eyes were slightly glassy from all the alcohol he’d had that evening, but they were dead serious, his cheeks flushed not with drink but with something else…..was it nervousness Clint saw there?

“……yes,” he said at last. “That would be extremely weird.”

“Ah.” Tony nodded and looked back at the drink in his lap, taking a sip. The noise below seemed miles away. They were in their own little bubble, and the silence between them seemed so fragile, breakable.

“……but…you can say it anyway.”

Those brown eyes snapped up to stare at Clint, who flushed beneath that gaze. “….I mean……if you mean it. I can’t guarantee that I’ll believe you, but…”

Tony paused. “……you don’t believe me?”

“……you haven’t said anything yet.”

If Tony noticed the way that Clint had avoided his question, he didn’t comment on it. He reached out, hand shaking. It hadn’t been mere seconds before, so this was definitely not the effect of the booze. Tony was nervous. That was not like him at all. Slim graceful fingers gently stroked Clint’s hair, brushing a lock behind his ear and trailing down the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. Clint shivered. And then Tony’s lips were on his and he was being kissed, not hard and forceful like he would have expected but soft, so soft and tenderly and he sat frozen, his hands at his sides, not knowing what to do. Tony pulled away slowly, taking his time, as if…. _As if he thinks this is the only chance he’s going to get._ Brown eyes opened, meeting blue, and Clint still couldn’t move, could do nothing but stare into those warm brown eyes.

“…..I love you.”

Clint had no idea how to respond. “…….I……” He couldn’t break that gaze, staring into Tony’s eyes. “……..thanks?” He winced inwardly. That was so not the right response. But Tony didn’t seem to mind. He chuckled.

“You’re welcome.”

Clint shook his head, wanting to explain, trying to think how to tell Tony that he didn’t NOT love him, that he just didn’t know HOW he felt, but he couldn’t find the words, and then Tony spoke up.

“But I do mean it, though. I hope you realize that. Eventually.” He looked at Clint, smiling. “…..now……you think it’s safe down there? Or you think Coulson’s still out to kill us?”

Clint still wanted to explain, but it was clear that Tony wanted to avoid the conversation for the time being. He forced a smile. “We’re probably safe for now.”

“Okay. Well…….let’s find our way down.”

That reminded him. “……how the hell did you even get UP here?”

Tony grinned. “I’m badass.”

“Tony, I’m serious.” 

“Well, it wasn’t super easy. I’m thinking maybe I should install a rock-wall. You know…..for future adventures.”

“……you’re so weird.”

“What…..you think it’ll clash with the décor?”

“Yeah, I think it’ll definitely look a bit out of place.”

“Aww, that’s too bad. Okay…..so get me down.”

“Only if you ask nicely.”

“……please?”

“Hmm……I guess that’s a start.”

Tony’s hands found the lapels of Clint’s jacket, stroking them, then gently tugging him closer. “…….pretty please?” His voice was soft, he looked at Clint through his lashes. 

Clint swallowed hard. “………yeah. I can do that.” Tony smiled at him.

“So…..how do we do this.”

“….well……” He looked at the glass in Tony’s hand. “……you better hold onto that. I still have no fucking clue how you got it up here in the first place.”

“Told you……I’m awesome. And I’ve got awesome moves.”

“Ah, I forgot.”

“How could you.”

“I have no idea.” He moved carefully, reaching for Tony’s hand. “Here……come on.”

Tony accepted, watching closely as Clint maneuvered his way down, following carefully in his footsteps. “So…..this is how you did it.”

“Yeah.” 

“You’re really good at this stuff.”

“Heh. I’ve always felt better in high places.”

“S’that where the name ‘Hawkeye’ came from?”

“Sort of.” His hands on Tony’s waist, he gently lifted him, carefully setting him on the ground. 

Tony smiled at him. “Thanks.” And even though their feet were on the ground, Clint couldn’t bring himself to let go of Tony’s waist. He stared into Tony’s eyes. They were like pools that he could drown in.

“……Clint.”

“…yeah?”

“……I don’t want to stop you……the last thing I want to do is stop you, but…….people are gonna notice us in a minute, if we stay here like this.”

Oh. OH. Clint jumped, pulling away quickly. Too late, he realized how bad that must have looked, pulling away like that. “I….sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“I know. It’s a huge fucking crowd.” Tony’s smile returned, looking natural once again. “Hey, c’mon. Let’s go get another drink.”

Clint smiled. “Sounds good.” 

They emerged from the shadows, and all eyes were immediately on them once more. Clint tried to ignore them as before, but it was harder after all that had just happened between the two of them. But then they reached the bar and Tony flopped back onto a stool, spinning in a circle, and it was impossible not to smile while watching him.

Tony spun about to face Clint again, smiling as he leaned back against the bar. “So……any more drinks you want to try?”

“Uhhh……” Clint wracked his brain. “……..I don’t remember.”

Tony laughed. “That’s okay. The list should still be on my phone.” He patted at his pockets, searching for it. “…..oh. Do you still have it?”

“….um…” But before Clint could answer, Tony was reaching into his pockets. Clint jumped. “Hey!”

“What?” Tony pulled the phone out of Clint’s right jacket pocket.

Clint shook his head. “Nothing. Ass.”

“No, that was your hip. Your ass is back here.” Tony reached around Clint and patted his backside.

“Hey!” Clint punched Tony’s shoulder. “What the fuck?”

“OW!” Tony rubbed his shoulder. “Will you stop punching me? I’m gonna have the biggest fucking bruise tomorrow!”

“Don’t grab my ass!”

“I didn’t. I patted it. I can grab it, if you like. You know….to show you the difference.”

“That’s okay.” He grabbed the phone from Tony, avoiding the man’s gaze, trying to hide the blush that had risen to his cheeks. “…..okay, what about this one?”

Tony leaned in, looking at the phone. “…..Chupacabra?”

“Yeah.”

Tony took the phone, reading the list of items that went into the drink. “Tequila…..grenadine…..lime juice….” He looked up at Clint. “……this sounds fucking disgusting.”

“Yeah, but it has an awesome name.”

“…..THAT’S why you want to drink it?”

“……yeah….”

Tony shook his head, but he was grinning. “Ass.” He turned to the bartender. “Can we get a Chupacabra, please?”

“What…..you’re not trying it?”

“Hell no. That’s gross.”

“Wuss.”

“Yup.”

“Hey!”

“What?”

“That’s supposed to goad you into drinking it!”

Tony laughed. “Oh, is that right?”

“Yes!”

“Too bad. It’s not gonna work.”

Clint pouted. “Asshole.”

“Ha. Call me whatever you like, I’m not drinking that shit.”

“Mr. Stark!” Another reporter was waving him down. Tony sighed. “Okay, I’m going to go deal with this shit. You enjoy your drink.” Tony pushed a wad of bills across the counter to the bartender.

“Alright.” Clint accepted the drink. “Hurry back.” He was surprised to discover just how much he meant it. He sure as hell didn’t want to deal with another reporter, but he didn’t want Tony to leave his side. At all.

Tony smiled. “Will do.” And he got up and moved to the reporter.

Clint watched him go. The reporter was smiling, and gesturing his way. Clearly their activities had been noted. Somehow he couldn’t find it in himself to care any longer. If they wanted to stare, let them stare.

He took a sip of the drink and nearly gagged. Tony had been right. The drink was one of the most disgusting things he’d ever tasted. “Fuck.”

“Problem?”

“Damn!” He hadn’t even realized Tony had come back. He shook his head. “You were right. This IS disgusting.”

“Oh yea?” Tony looked at the drink for a moment, considering, then “..….here.” He grabbed the lapel of Clint’s jacket again, tugging him off his stool.

“……where are we….”

Tony dragged Clint behind the bar, into a waiter’s entrance that Clint hadn’t even noticed. He was vaguely disappointed in himself. Usually he was totally aware of his surroundings. Then again, usually he wasn’t with Tony Stark. But he couldn’t think about that. Tony still had his collar, was glancing around, making sure no one was within view.

“….Tony….”

And then Tony was kissing him, tongue slipping past his lips, delving into his mouth, tasting him. Clint made a little noise of shock, nearly dropping the glass in his surprise.

Tony pulled away slowly. “Hmm…..you were right. It IS disgusting.”

Clint stared. He didn’t have any response at all. 

Tony cocked his head. “……what.”

Clint shook himself, fumbling for some kind of answer. “…….the glass.” He held out the glass. “The glass is right here. It’s right here.” He shook it, the drink almost sloshing over the side. “Take the glass. THE GLASS.”

Tony didn’t say anything, but Clint could see him struggling to suppress a smile. He accepted the glass and tossed the drink back in one gulp. “…….it tasted better my way.”

Clint’s face flushed. “…….you…….you’re so…..”

“…….charming?”

Clint couldn’t help but grin. “You’re something, alright.”

Tony laughed. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“You would.”

“….Mr. Stark?”

Both men turned. There was a waiter looking at them. Clint prayed to God that the man hadn’t been there long. 

“…..did you need some help?” If the man had seen the kiss, he had an extremely good poker face. His expression was all calm politeness. 

“No, thank you, we’re just fine.” Tony turned to Clint, smiling. “Shall we?”

“Yeah, please.” He let Tony usher him out the door, back into the party. “…..I think I need another drink,” he muttered under his breath.

“Yea……something that doesn’t suck.”

Clint laughed. “Yeah. That would be good.”

“Clint.”

The two men turned at the interruption, and Tony’s eyes immediately narrowed. “….Pepper, I thought we were done for the night.”

“Well, I hoped I could borrow Clint for a few minutes.”

Clint glanced at Tony, who was still glaring daggers at Pepper. “Um……sure…?”

Pepper smiled at Tony. “Go get yourself a drink. I’ll have him back to you within ten minutes.”

“Five.”

Clint didn’t understand what was going on, but Pepper was certainly amused. He followed her as Tony made his way to the bar. “Okay, Miss Potts. What’s this all about?”

“What are you referring to, Agent Barton?”

“This. This whole evening. You know something and you’re refusing to share.”

“I think you know exactly what’s going on. And you’re refusing to admit it to yourself.”

Clint was silent, simply staring at Pepper. “…….what do you want? Why did you want me to come over here?”

“Can you bring Tony home tonight?”

……that was totally unexpected. “…..well…..I came here with him……so I assumed we‘d be going home together….” And _that_ sounded totally inappropriate. Like they were a couple. He suppressed the little tug of heat that rolled through his gut.

“I figured it wouldn’t be a problem. I wanted to make certain, though. And you may need to drive.”

“Why would I need to….” He saw that Pepper was looking pointedly over his shoulder, and he turned. A row of shot glasses lined the bar in front of Tony….empty shot glasses, all upside-down, and Tony was currently tossing back the last drink. “…..oh, fuck.”

“Yes. Looks like he’s having a little liquid courage.”

“Since when has Tony ever lacked courage?”

“Since he met you.” Pepper patted Clint on the shoulder. “He doesn’t get drunk very easily, but I think you better go deal with him.”

Clint sighed. “Well, if you hadn’t dragged me away, there wouldn’t be a problem at all.” Turning, he returned to the bar, grabbing Tony’s shoulder. Tony turned, smiling brilliantly when he saw who it was.

“Hi!”

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough.”

“I got you a drink.”

“Okay, thanks. But I’m cutting you off.”

“That’s not really fair.”

“Tony…..you just did six shots. No more for you.”

Tony pouted. “Party pooper.”

Clint laughed. “No, that’s Pepper, remember.”

Immediately, Tony glowered. “Stupid Pepper. What’d she want?”

“She wanted to make sure I’d drive you home.” Clint sat down beside Tony.

“Yea? You’re driving me home?”

“Of course I am….” Clint glanced over, and was taken aback by just how big the smile on Tony’s face was.

“AWESOME.”

Clint couldn’t help laughing. “I’m glad you think so.” He picked up the drink Tony had bought for him. “So…..what perverted name does THIS one have?”

Tony grinned. “Death of a Virgin.” 

Clint just shook his head. “Ass.”

“Hey……I thought it might be appropriate for this evening.” Those eyes were dark and full of that same mysterious heat, and Clint flushed.

“……oh?”

“Yea.”

“…….I don’t know that ‘virgin’ is quite accurate……”

“Oh? In this situation?”

The meaning was clear. Tony wanted to know if Clint had been with another man before. He felt the heat rising, creeping up his throat, his cheeks. He was definitely not going to touch that question.

“…….I think maybe we should get going home.”

“Yea? You bored?”

“No. Not bored.” Just the opposite. He didn’t know how much more he could handle. All he wanted was to push Tony up against a wall and kiss him senseless. And this was NOT the place to do it.

He took the drink and drank it in one swallow. He didn’t even taste it. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“Yea?”

“Yeah.” Clint took Tony’s arm, gently tugging him to his feet. Tony tripped, stumbling into him. _Fuck. He IS drunk._ People were staring again.

“You need my keys?

Oh, yeah. “Yeah, thanks. Where are they?”

“Back pocket.”

Dammit. He reached around Tony and into his back pocket. Nothing. He checked the other side. Still nothing. “……Tony….”

The man grinned. “Yea, I was kidding. They’re in my jacket.”

“I seriously hate you sometimes.” Clint fished into Tony’s pocket, pulling out the keys. People were watching him, whispering, obviously intrigued at the way he had just appeared to be groping Tony’s ass. _Dear God, somebody shoot me now._

They stumbled down the front steps. The valets saw them coming and hurried off. Immediately, one came driving up in the Audi. Clint stopped and stared at Tony.

“………I didn’t need your keys. These are your house keys. The valets had your car keys.”

“Yup.”

“…….I groped your ass….in front of a thousand people……for no reason.”

“Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t love it.” Tony’s face was so close to his, smiling. Clint could feel that lovely body heat. He turned away, but Tony was still so close, breath warm against his cheek. “You sure I can’t drive?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Think you’ve had just a few too many.”

He managed to get Tony buckled into the car without too much difficulty. As usual, Tony felt the need to be obnoxious and argue with him, but it didn’t take too much to get him to behave and get them on their way.

Speaking of Tony…..the man was unusually silent. Clint glanced over and saw those big brown eyes watching him, shining in the dark, an enigmatic smile on his face.

“…..what?”

“Nothing.” Yet still Clint could feel Tony’s gaze on him as they sped down the road. “……so………what’re you gonna do with me when you get me home.”

Clint was silent for a long time. He didn’t know how to answer that question. Finally, he decided to just answer truthfully. “……I don’t know.”

“Don’t know, huh?“ Clint didn’t look at Tony, but he was positive that the man was smiling. “….I can work with that.”

 

 

**-tbc-**


	6. Home Sweet Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering (because there was one question), yes, Clint probably should've called a cab to drive them home. No, he wasn't drunk, but yes, he did still have alcohol in his system. So he was a bad boy by driving them home. Shame on him.

Clint pulled into the driveway, parking the car in front of the garage. “Okay…..we’re home.”

“So we are.” Tony unbuckled himself and, to Clint’s astonishment, slid easily from the car. For a moment, Clint could do nothing but sit and stare, then he tumbled over himself to follow.

“Hey.”

Tony turned to Clint, a smile on his face. “Yes?”

“What the hell happened to you being drunk?” He strode around the car to meet Tony. “You could barely walk back at the gala hall!”

Tony just smiled, that trademark smirk curving across his lips. “Why should I walk on my own when you’re obviously willing to let me lean on you?” As he spoke, he leaned into Clint, arms going around the other man’s neck.

Clint felt himself flush. Part of him wanted to shove Tony away in irritation at the man’s deception, but that was all outweighed by how good Tony’s body felt against him. He shivered despite the man’s heat. 

Tony clearly felt that. “….Clint,” he murmured. His face was so close. This was the moment. Clint had had all evening to figure out what he wanted, to decide where his heart lay, and now…..now he had to make a move. He looked at Tony, at those gorgeous eyes, full of a sweetness and something else….almost a nervous hopefulness……and knew there was only one move he could make.

Tony let out a tiny noise of surprise as Clint kissed him. There was no sweetness in the action, no hesitation. If Clint hesitated, held back at all, he would lose his nerve. And that was the last thing he wanted right now. Right now, after a whole night of trying to puzzle things out, he finally knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted Tony. And he wasn’t about to let his nerves get in the way of taking advantage of this chance.

Tony had gotten over his initial surprise, his fingers carding through Clint’s hair, giving it a little tug. Clint groaned, and pressed into Tony, wanting to be closer, wanting more of that heat that seemed to radiate from the man.

Clint pressed Tony backwards, the two of them stumbling until Tony’s back hit the wall of the house. Clint didn’t let up. He shoved Tony harder against the wall, nipping at his mouth, and Tony let out a little moan, rolling against Clint, their hips rubbing together. That was it. That was more than Clint could bear. He pulled away just enough, their lips nearly brushing as he spoke.

“Keys.” The words were breathless. “Where’re your keys?”

Tony stared at him, gaze confused. “….I…….what?”

Clint didn’t know whether to laugh at the bewilderment on Tony’s face, the lust that glazed his eyes, or whether to growl with irritation at the delay. Then he remembered. HE had the keys. He silently berated himself, pulling away from Tony, who let out a whine and reached after him, grabbing onto the tail of Clint’s jacket.

It took several tries to get the keys in the lock; Clint was far too distracted by the way Tony’s arms were around his waist, the way Tony was nuzzling behind his ear, breath warm on his skin. Somehow, Clint finally succeeded, and spun to face Tony, pulling him into a kiss as the door fell open, the two men tumbling inside and nearly falling to the floor. Clint managed to kick the door shut, forgetting to grab the keys. Cursing, he pulled away from Tony, yanked open the door, retrieved the keys and slammed the door shut again. Tony was on him practically before the door was shut, pushing the jacket from Clint’s shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

“Hey……you spent a lot of money on that.”

“Fuck it.”

Clint laughed breathlessly, kicking his shoes off. “Think there’s something else I’d rather fuck.”

Tony let out a noise that was almost a whimper. “Oh God.”

“Yeah.” Clint took hold of Tony’s jacket, pulling him close for another kiss. “….which way’s your bedroom?”

“…ah…..down the hall…..this way…” Tony gestured with his head, almost like that nodding-shrug that he had done all day, that gesture that Clint had come to love, and he couldn’t help it. He pulled Tony into his arms, scooping him up, eliciting a noise of surprise from Tony as Clint slammed him up against the wall, kissing him hard.

Tony pulled away with a little moan, teeth tugging at Clint’s lower lip. “….. _Clint_ ….” And fuck all, just the way Tony said Clint’s name was enough to turn the man’s legs to jelly. He didn’t think he had every wanted anyone this much….and Tony was still fully dressed. When he was naked…. that thought sent a jolt of heat rushing through Clint and, hands fisting in the front of Tony’s jacket, he yanked him off the wall, kissing him hard. 

“Bedroom,” he managed breathlessly.

Tony nodded. “Yea.” He began moving down the hallway, but Clint was moving faster, pulling Tony, kicking open the first door they came to. “…..that’s the dining room.”

“Dammit.” Clint moved to the next room.

“…..that’s a bathroom.”

Clint growled, hand still gripping Tony’s jacket, yanking him down the hallway, kicking open a third door. The room was dark, and vast, but it was filled with something. He peered into it.

“…..that’s a closet.”

Clint turned to stare at Tony in disbelief. “………THAT’S a closet?” Tony nodded. “……this is practically half the size of my apartment!”

“………..I like coats?”

Clint shook his head. “You are so fucking weird.”

“Yup.” Tony moved closer, hands stroking Clint’s chest, eliciting shivers and a little noise that Clint would stoutly deny making. “…..one more down on the right.”

Clint pulled Tony with him to the door, leaning back into it, kicking it open and tumbling into the room. He took a cursory glance around. “…….fuck.”

“What?” There was a hint of trepidation in Tony’s voice, as if he were concerned about what Clint would think.

“……..I think your bedroom just may be the size of my apartment.”

“…….oh.”

Clint turned back to Tony, smiling. “…….rich fucker.”

Tony laughed. “Shut the fuck up.”

“No.” Clint kissed Tony again, pushing the jacket off his shoulders. There was a ‘thunk’ as it hit the floor. Clint looked questioningly at Tony, then bent down, rifling through the coat. His fingers closed on something……a banana. The second banana that Tony had shoved in his pocket earlier that night, then never eaten. Clint straightened up, looking at Tony incredulously. “Really? You still have the banana?”

Tony shrugged. “Guess so.” He moved closer, cupping Clint’s face between his hands, kissing him. “Can use it for pancakes tomorrow morning.”

Clint just stood there, letting Tony kiss him, not knowing how to react to a statement like that. “………you are SO fucking weird.” He kissed Tony, hard and deep, pulling back to whisper, “I love it.”

Tony laughed then. “Glad to hear it. Cuz it’s not about to change anytime soon.”

“Good.” Clint tossed the banana onto the dresser. It wouldn’t do to leave it on the floor and step on it later. He smoothed his hands over the front of Tony’s shirt, teasing over his chest, moving up to take hold of his tie, tugging him closer. “I like you weird.”

Tony’s fingers were making quick work of the buttons on Clint’s shirt, working their way upwards to the tie, undoing it faster than Clint would’ve thought possible. “I’m still sorta bummed you didn’t go for the cravat.”

Clint laughed. “You’re such an irritating bastard.”

“Oh yea.”

Clint loosened Tony’s tie, and a thought occurred. “But y‘know..…..this is where the cravat actually would’ve come in handy.” He nuzzled along Tony’s throat, enjoying the shiver it elicited.

“Oh?” Tony tilted his head to the side, allowing Clint better access. “And why is that?

Smiling, Clint pulled back to look Tony in the eye. “…..cuz I could’ve used it to tie you to the bed frame.”

Tony’s cheeks immediately flushed a brilliant shade of red. “……oh.”

“Sound good?”

“….ah…….sounds fucking great.”

“I thought so.”

“…….well……..you know…..it _is_ just in the car….”

Clint shook his head. “I don’t wanna take the time to get it. Maybe next time.”

Tony perked up at that. “….. _next_ time?”

Clint immediately wondered what the hell he had said. He didn’t know if there would be a next time, if there _should_ be a next time. But as he thought about it, he realized that yeah, it was pretty damn likely there would be. This night had shown him one thing…..Tony was like a drug, and Clint didn’t know that he would ever get enough. He nodded. “Next time.” And as Clint spoke the words, he knew for certain that he meant them.

The smile that lit up Tony’s face sent butterflies through Clint’s stomach, and he didn’t resist when Tony pulled him into a kiss. By now, Tony had gotten Clint’s shirt completely open, and was shoving it off his shoulders.

“You’re really gonna ruin this suit that you spent all that money on.”

“Don’t care.”

Clint just shook his head, smiling. “Crazy bastard.” He tossed Tony’s tie aside and finished unbuttoning Tony’s shirt, pulling it open. He felt Tony immediately stiffen, and looked up at him.

The look on Tony’s face was unreadable, but there was something there…..apprehension? Why would Tony get nervous now?

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Clint noticed the glowing of the arc reactor in Tony’s chest. Was that it? Was Tony worried about Clint’s reaction to actually seeing it up close?

He glanced from the glowing light back up at Tony, and there was no question about it. Tony was definitely worried. Clint didn’t know why. The arc reactor did nothing to diminish his beauty. Clint wanted to show him that.

He reached out, fingertips just barely brushing the arc reactor, and heard a sharp intake of breath. He glanced up at Tony, a question in his eyes. Tony looked surprised, and nervous, but he nodded.

Clint softly ran a fingertip over the arc reactor, feeling the warm humming of the device that kept Tony alive. He traced the outline of it and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss right in the center.

When he met Tony’s eyes again, he felt as if he had been punched in the gut. If it were anyone else but Tony Stark, he would have sworn the man were crying. His eyes were huge, shocked and shiny with what Clint would swear were unshed tears….. _if_ this were anyone but Tony Stark. He looked as if Clint had just given him something. Something he’d needed badly.

“…..Clint…”

Clint’s hands ran over Tony’s shoulders, up his throat to cup his face. He softly kissed Tony. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

“Oh my God, shut up.” Tony’s hands clenched in Clint’s hair, their foreheads pressed together. 

“No.” Clint kissed him again, harder. “You are.” Clint could feel the heat of Tony’s blush radiating off him. He pulled Tony closer. “Now…… I think we need to get you out of these pants.”

“Oh. Oh, fuck, yes.”

Smiling, Clint reached down between them, unfastening Tony’s slacks, sliding to his knees as he tugged them down. Tony’s cock was straining against his boxer-briefs. Clint carefully pulled them down, humming appreciatively at the sight that greeted him. “Fucking gorgeous.” 

“Shut up. Don’t just sit there staring. Motherfucker.”

“Oh, I don’t intend to.” Clint leaned in, licking a slow line up the underside of Tony’s cock.

“Oh!” Immediately Tony’s knees buckled and he collapsed onto the bed. Clint laughed.

“I like that response.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You know, you’re saying that a lot. I suppose having your cock in my mouth is one way to do that.”

“Oh, God.” And then Clint’s mouth was on him and Tony was clutching at blonde hair. “Fuck. Oh fuck, Clint.”

Clint had never sucked cock in his life. He had never been tempted to. So it was truly surprising how much he was into this. Just the feeling of Tony in his mouth, the taste of Tony’s skin, his heat…..not to mention the noises the man was making…..Goddamn. It was everything Clint could do to stop himself from undoing his own pants and getting himself off just to the taste and sound of Tony. But he didn’t want that. He wanted all of Tony. And for that, he had to wait. Clint felt a tugging at his hair. 

“Clint…..gotta stop. Gonna…”

Clint swatted Tony’s hand, giving a little wave to try and signal that he had no intention of stopping. Instead he took Tony all the way in, swallowing around him, and he heard Tony cry out, felt that heat hit the back of his throat, and he swallowed as much as he could. He found that he didn’t mind the taste, either.

But Tony was tugging at his hair again, and this time, Clint listened. He rose, allowing Tony to pull him into a bruising kiss, and they tumbled back onto the bed, Clint falling on top of Tony, laughing.

“Tony!”

“What.”

“Gonna squish you.”

“Will not.“ Tony kissed him again. “I’m durable.” 

Clint laughed. “Yeah…..I know.” He kissed Tony. Tony’s hands left his hair, sliding over his shoulders, and then his nails were raking down Clint’s back and Clint gasped, breaking the kiss. “Fuck!” His hips automatically rolled down, grinding against Tony’s. He could feel Tony already hardening beneath him. Clint rubbed against him again, and felt Tony’s fingers dig into his back.

“Fuck.” And then Tony’s hands were moving, tugging at the waistband of Clint’s pants. “Off. Take 'em off.”

For once, Clint didn’t feel like making any smart-ass remark. He just wanted to be naked, to feel his skin against Tony’s. He pulled back off the bed, shucking his pants to the floor and immediately returning, kissing Tony deeply. “Condoms,” he asked breathlessly. “Where.”

Tony made a noise of frustration at the delay, gesturing towards the bedside table. “Top drawer.”

Clint had to half crawl across Tony to reach the dresser, on all fours over Tony’s midsection. He tugged the drawer open, straining to see in the dark.

There was a sudden heat teasing over the head of his cock and before it really sank in, Tony’s mouth was on him, taking him in, and Clint’s hips jerked of their own accord.

“Fuck! _Jesus_ , Tony!”

But Tony didn’t seem at all deterred by the sharp reaction. He waved a hand, encouraging Clint to keep looking, his mouth continuing to do ridiculously amazing things. Fuck. Clint hadn’t had many blowjobs. With his line of work, he had learned to be careful of who he trusted. It followed that he would be equally careful who he trusted to put their mouth on such an important part of his anatomy. But Goddamn……how much practice did Tony have to be able to use his mouth like this? But the thought made Clint’s gut clench. For some reason, he didn’t want to think of Tony with anyone else. _Mine_ , a tiny voice whispered. He pushed it away uneasily. Just then, his fingers brushed something, and he pulled out some condoms and a packet of lube.

“Haa. Got it.” He sat back, but Tony moved with him, hands on Clint’s hips, leaning in and taking him in all the way to the base. Clint couldn’t take his eyes off Tony. Wonderingly, he reached out, fingertips tracing Tony’s cheek. Tony glanced up, brown eyes looking up at Clint through chocolate lashes, and Clint felt his heart skip. “ _Fuck_. Okay, fuck Tony, stop.” It was too much. It felt too good, and Tony just looked too fucking beautiful.

Tony pulled away slowly, taking his time, tongue teasing Clint’s cock all the way as he released him, straightening up to smile at Clint. Clint reached out, fingertips tracing Tony’s mouth. “Goddamn.”

“What.”

Clint couldn’t take his eyes off Tony. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He didn’t know how it had taken him so long to notice. Tony flushed, catching Clint’s hand, pressing a kiss to his palm.

“You really need to shut up.”

“No.” He cupped Tony’s face, kissing him, and they fell back against the pillows. Clint tore open the packet of lube, slicking his fingers. This he had definitely never done before. He wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. He knew the mechanics, obviously, but he didn’t want to hurt Tony.

Tony didn’t seem all too concerned. He tugged at Clint’s hair. “Come on.” He spread his legs wider, giving Clint all the access he needed. “Need you.”

Clint sat back on his haunches, taking a good look at Tony. He was completely exposed, naked, legs spread to Clint, cock hard and flushed, the arc reactor a soft glow in his toned chest. He really was gorgeous.

Tony shifted impatiently, looking up at Clint. “….what the fuck are you doing? Quit staring at me.”

“No.” Clint ran a hand over Tony’s stomach, feeling his muscles clench, feeling him shiver. “I like looking at you.”

“Yea? Well you’d probably like fucking me even more.”

Clint felt that heat roll through him. “…..yeah, I’m guessing I’m really going to enjoy that.”

“…..so?“ Tony trailed a hand down his own chest, his stomach. “….what’re you waiting for?” He gave his cock a lazy stroke, and Clint damn near lost it. He leaned in, kissing Tony hard and hungry. Tony caught his hand, moving it lower, guiding it between his legs. Clint trailed a slick fingertip along the underside of Tony’s balls, feeling Tony’s breath hitch at the action. 

“…..Clint…..” Tony’s hips rocked back almost unconsciously, wanting more. Carefully, watching the man’s face for any reaction, Clint pressed one finger into Tony. Immediately, Tony‘s hands fisted in the bedsheets, and Clint froze.

“You okay?”

Tony blinked up at Clint. “……why wouldn’t I be okay? Fuck. What’re you doing. Don’t stop.” 

“Okay.” Clint leaned in, kissing Tony as he began stretching him. Tony nipped at his mouth.

“More, Clint. Please.”

Clint chuckled. “Impatient bastard.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“No. You are.”

“Hey, you’re going to fuck me. Hell yea I’m impatient.” Tony shifted beneath Clint, seeking more. 

Clint shook his head, grinning, but did as he was told, two fingers stretching Tony now, scissoring. He must have done something right, for Tony suddenly cried out, grabbing Clint’s shoulders.

“Fuck! Jesus!”

“Heh….good?”

“Fuck…..yea. Goddamn…..” 

Tony was clinging to Clint now, face buried against his throat as Clint continued to work him, two fingers stretching and a third teasing over that sweet spot until he had Tony practically shaking. The noises he was making were sexier than anything Clint had ever heard, and he couldn’t believe he was the one responsible for them. Yesterday he never would have imagined anyone could make Tony lose control like this. And now, he was the one to do it.

“Fuck. Fuck shit dammit okay Clint, stop. Stop. Need you.” Tony’s voice was desperate. “Now. Need you now.”

Clint pulled back, kissing him, and Tony responded almost frantically. God, it was sexy as hell. Clint lay Tony down, looking around, searching for the condom. 

“Goddammit, Clint, hurry up!”

“Working on it!” There it was. Clint tore the wrapper open, but it was hard to get it on when Tony was kissing him like that, graceful hands roving over Clint’s body. Somehow he managed, shoving Tony back against the pillows, taking another good look at him. “…….God.”

“You say another word about me being beautiful and I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

Clint laughed. “Guess I’ll save it for later, then.” He slipped a hand beneath Tony’s leg, tugging one knee up around his waist, slowly pressing into the man. “ _Fuck_.” Goddamn. Tony was so hot, so tight. Clint hoped he had prepared him enough. God. He felt amazing. “Fuck……you okay?” 

Tony nodded. “Yea……m’fine.” He wrapped his arms around Clint’s neck, hands slipping into his hair, and pulled him into a kiss. “Don’t stop.” Tony’s voice was already breathless, his face flushed, and fuck all, it was sexy. 

Clint kissed him again, sliding forward until he was fully seated within the man. “Fuck. Goddammit, Tony. Feel so fucking good.” He couldn’t move…..if he moved right away, he would lose it. That tight heat was just too good.

Tony’s hands were running over Clint’s skin, nails raking down his back just enough to sting. Clint moaned, arching into the feeling, and his hips automatically rolled forwards. 

Tony gasped, fingers digging into Clint‘s flesh. “Fuck! Oh God.”

“…..okay?”

“ _Yea_ , okay. Stop asking that. _More_ than okay. Keep going.” Tony nuzzled Clint’s throat.

Clint smiled, sighing happily at the feeling. “Okay.” He pulled out almost all the way and then thrust back in, hard. Tony gasped.

“ _Fuck!_ ” He nipped at Clint’s throat. “Harder. Don’t hold back.”

God, that felt good. “Won’t.” He tugged Tony’s leg higher up around his waist, and Tony obliged him, wrapping both legs tight around Clint’s waist. It was much better, allowing Clint to go deeper, and on the next roll of his hips, he found what he was looking for. Tony cried out as Clint hit that sweet spot.

“Fucking hell!” He cupped Clint’s face, kissing him deeply. Clint took a good look at him. Those brown eyes were half-lidded, dazed with pleasure. He ran a hand down Tony’s throat, over his chest.

“……..so fucking gorgeous.” He kissed Tony again, deeply, tongue delving past his lips to taste him, and Tony didn’t even try to object to Clint’s words, just pressed desperately up into the kiss, moaning into Clint’s mouth as he set up a hard, steady rhythm that hit Tony’s prostate on every stroke.

“Clint…….oh God.” Tony was completely undone, cheeks flushed in a way that was so becoming that it should be illegal. “Wanted this…..wanted you……so fucking long now.”

Clint didn’t think he had heard right. Tony had seriously been lusting after him? Not just lusting after him……if what Tony had said earlier really was true……Tony was in love with him. And apparently had been for some time. Clint was stunned. And he was equally stunned when he realized that Tony’s words and feelings didn’t scare him like they probably should. Tony wanted him……. _loved_ him. The thought filled him with butterflies, but it was a good kind of butterflies. And that was scary, but somehow, not in a bad way.

Clint cupped Tony’s face in his hands, kissing him softly. Tony met his gaze. “……Clint…..can’t…..”

Clint kissed him again. “Good.” He stroked Tony’s cheek. “Let go.” His other hand reached between them, fingers wrapping around Tony’s cock, wet with precum, giving it a stroke. “Come for me, Tony.” 

That was more than Tony could take, and he cried out as he came, hips bucking, the heat of his release spattering Clint’s hand. Clint couldn’t take his eyes off him. “God……so fucking beautiful.” He continued to stroke Tony, milking every last bit of his orgasm from him. “Can’t believe this is happening.”

Tony was practically boneless now, chest rising and falling as he struggled to catch his breath. He opened his eyes, blinking up at Clint through his lashes. Then, and Clint couldn’t believe it, he took Clint’s hand, raising it to his mouth, and licked the hot seed from his fingers, never breaking Clint’s gaze.

Clint came harder than he ever had in his entire fucking life. He was vaguely aware of Tony’s hands in his hair, of the warmth of Tony’s mouth as he licked Clint’s fingers clean, of the fact that it was impossible to fucking breathe. All he wanted was to capture this moment, bottle it and keep it forever. Keep _Tony_ forever.

He realized that at some point he had collapsed against Tony, pressing close to that delicious warmth the man possessed. He glanced up. Tony was watching him with an undecipherable look in those brown eyes. “…….hi.”

“Hello.”

Clint propped himself up on one elbow. “……that…….was fucking _amazing_.”

At Clint’s words, Tony’s face dissolved into a smile. “Glad we agree.”

Clint smiled. “Definitely.” He leaned in to kiss Tony, and Tony’s fingers slipped into his soft blonde hair, stroking it, pulling Clint closer. God, Tony had the softest lips ever. His whole mouth was fucking amazing. Clint pulled away slowly. Tony’s hair was a mess, face flushed, lips red and swollen from all the kisses. He looked amazing. 

Clint didn’t know when he had started thinking men were attractive. But when he thought about it, he really didn’t. It was just Tony. When had he become so interested in Tony? It had snuck up on him somehow. Even stranger was the fact that he wasn’t that uncomfortable with it. Slightly uncomfortable, because honestly, Clint wasn’t that good with excessive emotions of any kind. But all things considered, this was pretty damn impressive.

He realized Tony was staring at him. “……what.”

“You tell me. You’ve been staring at me for a good five minutes or so.”

Clint flushed. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

“……only good thoughts, I hope.”

“Heh. Yeah. Good thoughts.” 

“Good.” Tony stroked Clint’s cheek. “………you gonna stay the night?” He was trying to look casual, but it was clear he was anxious about Clint’s response.

Clint smiled. “Yeah…….I mean, if that’s okay?”

Tony looked ridiculously happy. “Yea, you idiot. That’s more than okay.”

Clint laughed. “Okay, okay.” He gave Tony a little shove. “Push over, then.”

Tony grinned. “What……still got a problem with closeness? Cuz after all that we just did, I wouldn’t think you’d object to snuggling up with me.”

“Ass. And I wasn’t saying I do. But you’re square in the middle of the bed. I need some room.”

“Hey, it’s a huge bed. There’s more than enough room.”

“Good point.” Clint flopped down beside Tony. He really wasn’t one for snuggling, but for some reason, he wanted to be close to the man, to that heat, that soft skin.

Tony rolled over to face him, and Clint could see his face in the glowing light of the arc reactor. “Heh…….sorry about this. I’m afraid I come with a built-in nightlight.”

Clint laughed. “S’fine. I kinda like it.”

Tony’s brows shot up. “……yea?” 

Clint nodded. “Yeah…….I think it’s kinda sexy.”

Tony looked incredibly surprised….but extremely happy. “…….wow. I……..wow.”

Clint smiled. “Yeah.” He reached out, a fingertip gently tracing the outline of the arc reactor.

The smile on Tony’s face was wonderful. “You……wow. I….” But he cut himself off, flushing.

“……what?”

Tony shook his head. “Nothing.”

“No, what?”

Tony looked at Clint. “Well, I said it once already, I guess I can say it again. I love you.”

Clint just stared at Tony silently for a long moment. “………you really do mean that, don’t you.” Tony nodded silently. “………okay.”

“……….it doesn’t bother you?”

“No, it doesn’t bother me! Idiot.”

“Hey, I’m not an idiot! I’m a genius.”

“And an idiot.” Clint reached out, stroking Tony’s cheek. “I……..I’m not really sure how to say it, cuz I’m not really sure what it is yet. But…….I like you. _More_ than like you.”

Tony was staring at Clint, eyes huge with shock and hopeful happiness. “…….really? I mean……..really?”

“…….yeah. I don’t really understand it. I never liked a guy before, but you……..you’re different. Have been for a while. I just haven’t understood what it was. But tonight…….I don’t know. It kinda sank in. I like you. More than like you. It’s not love. Not yet, anyway. But……..I’d like to see where it goes.”

The look in Tony’s eyes was worth all the nervousness and anxiety and general weirdness that Clint felt when sharing any sort of feelings. He looked so ridiculously happy. Before Clint could really register what was happening, Tony was on top of him, hands cupping his face, kissing him deeply. Clint laughed into Tony’s mouth, arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. When he broke away, Tony was grinning.

“I love you.”

“Ass,” Clint shook his head, but he couldn’t help mirroring Tony’s grin. “You’ve already said so.”

“And I intend to keep on saying so. A lot.” Tony paused. “…..unless it starts weirding you out. If it starts weirding you out, tell me, and I’ll try to shut up. I can’t guarantee it’ll work. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut.”

Clint laughed. “Oh, really?”

“I know, I’m pretty good at hiding it.”

Clint kissed Tony again. “Well……..I’ll let you know. But….I don’t think I’ll mind.”

“Oh, good. Cuz I don’t think I can change my annoying nature.”

“Good. I like your annoying nature.”

Tony laughed. “You’re the only one.”

“True, that.” Clint ran a hand through Tony’s messy hair, trying to flatten it, but to no avail. “C’mon……we should probably sleep.”

“Mm. Sounds good.” Tony rolled off Clint, though he was still pressed right up against the man, his head on Clint’s chest. After a moment, he looked up at Clint. “………did I just pop your gay cherry?”

Clint flushed. “……..shut the fuck up.”

Tony burst out laughing. “No. That is _awesome_.”

“Shut up!”

“So that drink I bought you earlier was appropriate after all. ‘Death of a Virgin’ indeed.”

“Oh my God, Tony, shut up or I will fuck you into the mattress again.”

“……………that is not a way to make me shut up. If another fucking is the punishment, I will keep talking allll night long.”

Clint shook his head. “Okay, you asked for it,” and in one move, he had Tony rolled over flat onto his back, pinning him to the mattress. 

Tony looked up in surprise, and then a slow grin spread over his face. “……..I really fucking love you, you know that?”

Clint just smiled, leaning in for a kiss. “I’m starting to get that impression.”

 

 

**~fin~**


	7. Epilogue

Tony stared at the suit. “… _that’s_ what you were going to wear to the gala.”

“Yeah. What……you don’t like it?”

Tony looked at Clint, his expression incredulous. “……….you’re serious. You were actually going to wear _that_ to the Abbington Gala.”

“….what’s wrong with it?”

“…..Clint……it has holes in it.”

“So? They’re barely noticeable.” His tone was defensive.

“Is that….” Tony reached out, fingers brushing the jacket. “…..is that a bullet hole?

“No.” Tony looked at Clint, skeptical. “……it’s from a bowie knife.” He pointed at another hole. “ _That’s_ a bullet hole.”

Tony was staring at Clint as though he had lost his mind. “…….what?” Clint asked defensively.

The brunette shook his head. “You……you’re crazy, do you know that. Crazy.”

Clint grinned. “Yup. That’s why you love me.”

Tony smiled. “Yea. It is.” And this time, he didn’t have to make the first move. Clint stepped in, his arms slipping around Tony’s waist, pulling him close. The smile that lit up Tony’s face sent warm butterflies through Clint’s stomach.

……..yeah, this relationship was gonna work out just fine.

 

**~fin~**


End file.
